Hidden Memories
by Mijra
Summary: When Dr. Bashir is reported missing during an away mission, Sisko takes every effort to find his missing officer in the Gamma Quadrant, knowing that he has to be successful not only for his officer's sake but also for the sake of the prophets...
1. Prolog

**~ Hidden Memories ~**

by Mijra

**Note on the timeline:**

This story takes place in the fourth season. It's almost canon-oriented – although what happens in this story would never make it into the series:)

**Category:**

Contains some darker topics (as always…) with a lot of angst, so please be warned! There _is_ a reason why this here is rated as "T". However, no slash, sexual content or strong language.

**Disclaimer**: Neither Star Trek nor DS9 or its characters belong to me. They're all Paramount's – unfortunately ^^

**Notes from the author (April 2013):**

This here is a brush-up version of the original published in 2004. The content remains the same – I just made it a little more readable… It might take some time to replace all the chapters with their updated version so to discern between the old and new chapters, I'll leave out the underline of each chapter title in the new version.

* * *

,

**- Prolog –**

"It is time..."

Captain Benjamin Sisko woke with a start. Faint light was slanting in through the viewport of his bedroom, bathing the room in a cool and gloomy twilight. Tiny, white stars were streaking by outside the viewport, slowly enough that you wouldn't notice if you didn't pay closer attention. But still way too fast for someone who had grown up under the vast sky of New Orleans. It was strange but even after all these years in space, he still hadn't gotten used to the deliberate, artificial distinction between day and night here in space. Or perhaps he was just not yet ready to. Blinking several times against the darkness around him, he cast an uncertain look at the chronometer.

_0300 hours_. Still in the middle of the night. He ran a sweaty hand over his sleepy eyes and sighed. Had it been a dream? He could have sworn that he'd heard voices...

He propped himself on his elbows, listening once more attentively into the silence of his quarters. And if he concentrated hard, he could swear he could still hear them. It sounded like faint whispers that came drifting through the door of his bedroom. They were too far away to make out their words. But if his mind wasn't playing tricks on him, they came from the living room.

He frowned.

Reluctantly, he shoved the bedcover aside and stood, trying to overcome his sleepiness. The closer he made it to the living room, the more distinctive the voices became.

No sooner had he crossed the threshold to the adjoining living room, than he suddenly found himself in the brightly-lit infirmary. He instantly brought up one arm to cover his eyes against the unexpected brightness, his pulse quickening.

"It is time."

He spun around, startled by the sudden nearness of the voice. When his eyes had somewhat adjusted to the unnatural brightness that was enveloping him like a glowing, pulsing cocoon of light, he saw Dax watching him out of deep, expressionless eyes. When their gazes met, though, he instantly knew that it wasn't really his old friend staring back at him. And the realization didn't even surprise him. He knew all this. He had been here before.

"Time? For what?" he asked, his heartbeat slowly coming back to normal now that he had made sure that he was in no immediate danger.

"Linear existence. A point that has to be passed for other linear points to occur. The point is just about to arrive..." It was Kira who had spoken. The Bajoran major was watching him out of the same timeless and unfathomable dark eyes as Dax.

"What point? What's going to happen?" he asked with a rising sense of alarm.

A flash of light – and he was standing in OPS.

"Danger has arisen."

He hastily turned toward the disembodied voice – just to look into the swollen face of the Ferengi bartender.

"What danger?" he demanded again, shaking his head in confusion. "Danger to Deep Space Nine?" His brows furrowed. "Is it the Dominion?"

Dax' face didn't betray the slightest hint of emotions when she finally said: "He, who has lost his place among you, is aware of the danger. You have to find him. The existence of our kind is in danger."

About to speak up, he didn't have the chance to question them further when his vision was all at once drowned in another dazzling flash of light. With a groan, he reflexively squeezed his eyes shut, but the vision had vanished as fast and unceremoniously as it had come. It took a moment for his vision to return, but when it did, he found himself standing yet again motionless and with pounding heart in the middle of his dark quarters.

"You alright Dad? I heard your voice..."

He had to blink several times until the dark, shadowy figure standing in the door frame opposite him became discernible in the still dim-lit room. Running a hand over his head, he pressed his lips into a thin, contemplative line.

"It's okay, Jake. I couldn't sleep, that's all," he finally sighed, watching his son nod skeptically before he stifled a yawn and left his father alone in the elsewise deserted living-room.

Still unsure what to make of their sudden visit, it took Sisko a moment to understand what they were trying to tell him.

_Danger._

It was their way of asking for his help. The Prophets had given him all he needed to know – and probably all he'd ever get from them – and now it was up to him to take action...


	2. Chapter 1

**- Chapter 01 -**

"Here we are."

Sisko lowered the map he'd been given at the information, and cast a curious look up and down the long, gray-white corridor. The place had a tidy and even somewhat sterile feeling about it. Even though they had met some passers-by on their way earlier, they found the corridors now fairly deserted, making him wonder how deep exactly they had already ventured into the maze-like complex. Having the young office lady at the reception desk describe the right way had been more than helpful, for he doubted that they would ever have found their way down here alone. But still, even with the description the Administrative Authority's main office complex was huge. Larger even than its outer appearance would suggest. With long, winding hallways and interjecting corridors that all looked fairly the same.

Sisko shook his head. It was a strange irony of fate that they should find him here – after three long months. Enough time that absolutely anything could have happened to him; that he could have been kidnapped – or even worse – that he could have been killed. It was almost a miracle that they were now standing in front of the double-door room with its golden sign and fateful letters reading _Infirmary_. Like if the last three months had never happened. Like if all they had to do was walk in and bring him home. Could it really be that easy?

He sighed. He had been more than worried when his first medical officer hadn't returned home from the medical conference on Belaran. More so, when his runabout had been declared missing. It had come as a painful blow when Starfleet had finally announced - barely one month ago - that no further investigations would be done to solve the issue of his sudden disappearance. But Sisko hadn't given up hope. He had known that his officer was some place out there and he had sworn to himself that he would do everything to find him. He wouldn't accept Starfleet's reports as long as he wasn't a hundred percent sure. And he wouldn't give up on his chief medical officer as long as there was still hope. Three months had been a long time, but finally his search had led him here.

Should their long journey finally come to an end? Too many things had gone wrong during those last three months, too many hints had turned out to be dead-ends. But, even if they should finally find him here, die he really feel ready to face the truth? He still had an uneasy feeling about it. And even though he tried to ignore it, there still was that small voice in the back of his mind whispering that things never went that easy. He tried to ignore it. They had finally found him – and that was all that mattered.

Almost unconsciously, he squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. Then he turned around. Dax was waiting a few steps behind him, apparently as nervous as he was. When their eyes met, she offered a tight but encouraging smile.

"Are you sure, he'll be in there?" O'Brien asked skeptically, moving to Sisko's side. "I mean, why didn't he try to contact us? This place isn't... exactly uninhabited..." the Irishman said with a dark frown and a somber, wary look around.

Sisko couldn't deny that the chief had a point. Ever since they had learned of his being here, he had asked himself the same question over and over again but as of yet he hadn't found any satisfying answer to his doubts. But whatever the answer was, they'd get it in only a few minutes. With a last nod toward his two officers, he stepped in front of the door that instantly parted to both sides with a faint, familiar hiss.

When he reluctantly entered, he felt some sort of odd familiarity with the place. It reminded him too much of his own infirmary, on his own station, many light years away. Shrugging off the slight feeling of nostalgia, he quickly scanned the room for the person he was looking for.

After only a short glance around, he saw him. Sisko involuntarily held his breath. He had already played it through in his mind. He had already imagined the encounter so many times before, had searched for the right words to say then. God, he had even pictured the young man's face when he was being told that it was finally time to go home. But none of his prearranged words really seemed to matter in this moment.

"Can I help you?" the young doctor said with a friendly smile. He had been studying some PADDs and had suddenly turned to the sound of incoming patients. There seemed to be no other personnel around. Even the biobeds on the far side of the room were empty.

Sisko felt a painful twinge at the familiar sight. It was the same blue-trimmed uniform. Underneath it the lilac-colored shirt. Only the combadge was missing. As well as the pips.

"Can I help you?" the young man tried again, coming over to them.

He hadn't changed. The same slender form, the same coal black hair. The same sympathetic bedside manner. Only now Sisko realized how much he had missed him. DS9 just hadn't been the same without him. How often had he been to the infirmary during those past three months, stuffed with the latest technical equipment but without the warmth of the person who had once been working there?

"Doctor Julian Bashir?" Sisko probed carefully. The young doctor's answer was a nod – and a broad, disarming smile.

"This I am. What can I do for you?"

It weren't exactly the words of his question that took the captain by surprise, but rather his nonchalant way of addressing them. Sisko's eyes darted from Dax to O'Brien. Even though the chief was obviously struggling to keep a neutral countenance, Sisko could very well sense O'Brien's confusion at the young man's unexpected words.

Somehow, he had known that things wouldn't go that easy. That he found him, brought him home and that they could go on as if nothing had ever happened. But still – he had wished for this bad feeling to prove wrong. Three months was a long time. And being true to himself, he had to acknowledge that even the fact that they were finding him here – safe and sound again – was more than he could have hoped for.

No, he couldn't expect things to work that way.

"My name is Benjamin Sisko and these are my friends Jadzia Dax and Miles O'Brien."

He did it on purpose – leaving out their military ranks. Julian politely shook hands with all newcomers, but without any trace of joy about meeting his old colleagues and friends again. It seemed as if their little meeting didn't mean any more or less to him, than a talk to one of his patients, as he had them so many a day.

"Pleased to meet you."

Sisko could sense Jadzia's questioning gaze in his back. He couldn't tell how he managed, but after all those long years of friendship, they must have developed a kind of relationship that didn't need much words to understand each other's feelings. Even standing there with his back to her, he could feel this bond of friendship and trust, this special thing that only the two of them shared. She was waiting for his reaction. The reaction of the _captain_.

"Well, to be honest, I don't feel very well. I don't know why but I have that strange feeling in my stomach. I was told at the information that I would find you here. It took me a while to figure out the right way..." Sisko pretended a little embarrassed, passing one hand over his belly. Perhaps it would be better to leave out the truth – at least for a while.

"Oh, I see. This building is so huge that I got lost myself several times in a row at the beginning. Figuring out the right way took me some weeks," Julian laughed warmly and gestured for Sisko to lie down on one of the biobeds, picking up some sort of humming tricorder.

He didn't recognize them. None of them. Only formalities, no greeting, no joy about their sudden reunion. As if he had never known them in the first place...

"Just relax," Bashir said gently, running a diagnostic device over his patient. "What did you have for breakfast?"

"Just some fruits..." the captain tried to make his non-existing stomach ache more believable.

Julian knit his brow, tapping the display of his medical tricorder. "Well, we'll have that fixed in a minute." And with a quick glance at O'Brien and Dax he asked: "Are you new here?"

The question took Sisko by surprise. "No... just visiting," he stalled.

The young man nodded.

"I hope you'll enjoy your stay in Velurin. You should go see the thermal springs in the northern part of the city. It's one of Velurin's most famous sights," he smiled.

Sisko cast Dax a meaningful look. She slightly nodded in response, not taking her eyes off Bashir who was completely oblivious to the silent exchange between the two of them. Clearing her throat, she came to the young man's side, hands clasped behind her back.

"By the way, Doctor, may I ask how long have you been working here?"

Julian looked up at this. "Oh, quite a while actually," he answered with yet another open smile. He seemed so easygoing. As if nothing was wrong at all.

"And what did you do before you got this job?" she ventured further, still watching him closely.

Bashir suddenly seemed to hesitate, a shadow crossing his face. For a moment, he frowned in confusion until he finally seemed to snap out of his stupor and shook his head. His tone was remarkably cooler with a hint of irritation when he said at length: "I'm sorry but I don't think that this is any business of yours." And injecting the hypospray he'd prepared into Sisko's neck, he asked, this time more gently: "So, how do you feel?"

Sisko nodded. "Better. Thank you, Doctor." And with a quick look toward Dax he added: "I'm sorry but I'm sure it wasn't my friend's intention to offend you."

Julian sighed, obviously slightly embarrassed. "It's alright. I'm just a little nervous myself today. Never mind. It was my fault."

Sisko watched Bashir carefully. "Just one more question, Doctor. I've been wondering if you've ever been a member of Starfleet?"

Perplexed, the young doctor's eyes strayed from the captain to Dax. "Why do you ask?" His brows furrowed with confusion – and suspicion.

Sisko shook his head, vaguely gesturing towards the young man's uniform. "You're wearing one of their uniforms. I just thought you were Starfleet."

He wasn't sure what it was he saw in the young man's face, but Julian palpably paled at the question.

"No... that's the uniform of the Administrative Authority," Julian frowned warily. "Perhaps it resembles a Starfleet uniform, I wouldn't be able to tell. I've never been in Starfleet and to tell the truth, I've never seen one of them before, because – to be honest - I haven't ever left this planet. But perhaps you're right. We have so many different clothing styles here in Velurin. Perhaps someone just copied it. I'm sure it's just a coincidence."

Sisko wasn't at all sure how to deal with those words. He didn't know if Julian truly believed in what he was saying. But if he did – and it really seemed so – their problems were bigger than he had assumed. When they'd made their way down here nobody else had been wearing a Starfleet uniform – which proved Bashir's current assumption more than wrong.

"You're absolutely sure about never having been in Starfleet?" now also Jadzia probed apprehensively.

It was the decisive moment. Even though Julian might have been stalling and avoiding any clear answer before, he was trapped by the young Trill's question now. His eyes darted from Dax to O'Brien and from O'Brien to Sisko, his face adopting again that confused and bewildered expression. Was it fear he saw in the young doctor's eyes? Julian didn't move, just stared at them as if he was struggling for words.

"I-I don't..." The words came with an obvious stutter.

"Julian!"

With a sharp hiss, the doors of the infirmary parted and a young man – about the same age as Bashir – came rushing in, panting heavily for breath. Startled, the four of them turned to face the newcomer.

"Julian! It's Selim! We need your help! You have to come," the newcomer pleaded, propping himself on his knees. His reddened face was drawn into a painful grimace.

Still rooted to the spot, Julian blinked several times, before he finally seemed to come around, grabbed the med kit that was lying on top of one of the biobeds and moved decisively past Sisko and the others. "I'm sorry, Mr. Sisko. Perhaps we'll have the chance to talk to each other again but for now duty calls. If you'll excuse me," he said, hurrying after the other young man without another glance back.

Another hiss - and he was gone.

Sisko cast a confused look at Dax and O'Brien. They had found him indeed...

* * *

"What was _that _supposed to be? That's not Julian!" O'Brien protested vigorously as he closed both hands tightly around his coffee mug. Even though it was shortly before noon, the cafeteria was not very crowded and finding a vacant table hadn't turned out to be very difficult. They were sitting near one of the huge viewports at one side of the hall, giving a good view over the vast, green forest that was surrounding the entire building.

"Biologically, it's him. I've compared the tricorder readouts I took some time earlier with those of his record. They correspond by a hundred percent," Dax said matter-of-factly. She was swaying her own mug to cool her tea, at the same time casting a swift but alert glance toward the entrance every now and then.

"I mean, he's been missing for three months and when we find him, he has no idea who we are? What happened?" the chief snorted.

Dax shook her head. "I know what you mean, Chief. And I wish we knew what happened. But all we do know is that his shuttle must have crashed down on this planet. He might have been injured at that time. He might even have lost his memory. Without another scan, I cannot tell for sure, but after all we've seen I think the most logical explanation would be to assume that he's suffering from some kind of amnesia. It would explain why he didn't remember any of us. Perhaps someone found him after the accident and brought him here. If he's really lost his memory, than it's no wonder that he didn't try to contact us..." Dax reasoned mildly, trying to dispel the chief's worries.

"Perhaps you're right," O'Brien conceded with a frown. "But why is he still wearing his uniform? Why's he working as a doctor when he ought to have lost his memory? And what about his name? Why hasn't he forgotten his name as well? Please correct me if I'm wrong but isn't the own name the first thing people suffering from amnesia forget? But Julian obviously knows his own name. Apparently, he hasn't forgotten about his profession as a doctor, either," O'Brien said with irritation. Even though he tried to hide it and keep his emotions at bay, Dax could sense how much he was worried about finding his best friend like this.

"Somebody might have read about his identity in the shuttle logs," Dax suggested.

"But what about Julian being a member of Starfleet? If somebody found out about the truth, why didn't they try to contact Starfleet? What's all this hiding about?" the Irishman held.

Sisko shook his head, his lips pressed into a thin contemplative line. "Even if we leave out all these contradictions for a while, there's another thing that bothers me even more. Did you see the look on his face when Dax asked him how long he's been working here? Or when I asked him about his uniform?"

Dax slowly nodded. "He was literally speechless. Like if the question had caught him completely off guard."

"The incident with that young man back in the infirmary saved him from having to answer the question, but I'm not sure if he would have been able to give us any clear answer at all," Sisko continued. "I don't know why, but I already had a bad feeling when we entered that room. Something is not right here. And I agree with the chief that the whole affair of Julian obviously working for the Administrative Authority sounds rather strange and unbelieving to me."

He took a short sip of his coffee, rubbing his temples. "When can we contact the Orinoco again?"

The young Trill secretly opened her tricorder under table. "In about 72 hours and 15 minutes. That gives us some time to get a closer look around. See if we can find out more."

"Well," Sisko sighed, "I don't know what happened, or why nobody saw it necessary to contact Starfleet about Bashir's whereabouts – but I intend to find out. And as things are it seems as if we don't have much alternative but to do some investigation work on our own."

Recalling his meeting with Minister Hradly of the Administrative Authority here in Velurin shortly upon their arrival, he sighed. Contacting the authorities of Felan III to help to search for Dr. Bashir had proven to be a waste of time. There was almost no relationship between Starfleet and the faraway planet here in the Gamma Quadrant whose inhabitants lived in utter isolation from the outer world. Although the planet hardly disposed of any remarkable or relevant resources of raw materials and therefore was of no greater significance to neither Starfleet nor the Dominion, a prosperous society had developed on the four large continents of Felan III.

Most of the planet's surface consisted of vast areas of woods, natural lakes and a landscape every tourist could only dream of. But the Felani knew very well how to keep uninvited guests away from their planet. The last thing they wanted to do was make Felan III a second Risa or Casperia. They appreciated their privacy and didn't willingly engage in trades with species from other worlds.

It didn't happen very often that a stranger found his way to Felan III. Even though the Felani were very similar to humans and – at first sight – hardly distinguishable from the human species, the Felani were not so detached from the rest of the universe that they wouldn't be able to recognize an alien among their fellow citizens. A runabout crash like that of Dr. Bashir had been bound to attract some attention, but when Sisko had contacted the Administrative Authority of Felan III, the existence of such an incident had been denied. If he hadn't been able to trace back the unmistakable remains of the runabout's ion signature, he wouldn't have had any solid proof that Bashir's shuttle had really crashed down on this isolated planet in the Gamma Quadrant.

They had traced the ion signature back down to a spot on the planet's surface not far from a northern city on the biggest continent on Felan III. Despite the ion signature, they hadn't been able to find neither remains of the runabout nor any hint as to the whereabouts of its pilot. It was then that Sisko had started to grow suspicious and had decided to start some investigations on his own, going down to the planet with a small away team in order to find out more about Bashir's whereabouts.

"Can't we just ask him?" O'Brien's worried voice drew Captain Sisko's attention back to the here-and-now.

"Or ask someone from that Administrative Authority? Somebody has to know about his being here. Somebody had to have hired him. I mean: Julian is obviously working as a doctor, so there has to be somebody who's trusting him and his abilities. It's just about finding out who's in charge of the staff department, isn't it?"

O'Brien looked expectantly from Captain Sisko to Lieutenant Dax. He just couldn't sit still doing nothing.

"It's not that easy, Chief. We've already asked the Administrative Authority for help but nobody there seems to know anything about a Julian Bashir. Apparently they don't want us to get in contact with him, or perhaps it's just because we're foreigners. Perhaps they're afraid that we might become a danger to them."

"Danger?" the Chief growled. "When I find out what's going on with Julian and why nobody saw it necessary to inform us about his whereabouts, I'll become a real danger. That much I promise, Captain."

"For the time being, we can't do anything that might attract their attention. We have to try to keep our own investigation under wraps. I think that would be best. Dax..." He turned to the young Trill. "...what do you think about the possibility that Dr. Bashir might have lost his memory in the shuttle crash? Is there any chance to check this?"

"Without further examinations, it's not possible to say for sure. But I'll try and see if I can get close enough to him to run another scan..."

Sisko nodded. "Chief?"

O'Brien looked up, eager for the permission to go and see Julian as soon as possible.

"I'd like you to search for the remains of the runabout. Within the city, in the woods, everywhere. Search for ion signatures or any other unusual sources of emission."

When O'Brien opened his mouth to protest, Sisko held up a warning hand. "That's an order, Chief."

"Aye, sir," the Irishman grumbled under his breath.

It wasn't that Sisko couldn't understand O'Brien's disappointment, but above all, they had to learn what had really happened in the past three months.

"Very well. You know your mission. We'll meet again at _1600_ hours, that is in about five hours. Just try to find something out till then."

* * *

Julian slowly walked back down the deserted corridor, the med kit absently dangling from his hand. He had tended to Selim, but was that enough?

He arbitrarily took directions till he finally came to a halt in a dim-lit by-corridor where he slumped tiredly against the wall. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself and get his emotions back under control. He still felt his heart pounding hard in his chest, and he knew that he didn't even need to have a look into a mirror to know that he must be a terrible sight.

His hands were still covered in blood. Selim's blood. There had been no time to wash it off. It was still there, sticking to his hands, and staining his uniform. At the mere sight of his blood-soaked uniform sleeves, he felt a wave of nausea.

It was strange. He wasn't sure why, but he felt an odd attachment to this uniform. He couldn't quite place the feeling, but there was something inexplicably comforting about it. Something warm and calming. Wearing this uniform made him feel only have as lost, and only half as afraid. He knew that it was illogical and foolish but with this uniform he felt strangely at ease. Even at home.

No matter what happened, no matter how bad the day became, the uniform gave a feeling of warmth and security. Seeing the sleeve now soaked with Selim's blood made him feel sick and nauseated...

He took a deep breath and passed the back of his hand over his face as if to wipe off all the filth and unpleasant feelings of that moment, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. But it didn't help. Almost involuntarily, his thoughts began to spin back to his encounter with the strangers in the infirmary this morning.

What had those strangers wanted from him? And why did he feel so angry and defensive when he thought back to their meeting? He didn't even know them. But somehow they managed to set his nerves on edge. Why did he feel so threatened by their questions? They had been patients, after all. He scolded himself for being so egoistic as to let his personal feelings interfere with his profession as a doctor. Mr. Sisko had just needed his help, that's all. And the strange woman, and the other man, they had just been friends of Mr. Sisko. No need to feel alarmed – least of all threatened.

He doubted that he'd see them again anyway. They were just tourists. How likely was it that they're paths would cross again while they stayed in Velurin? ... So why was their meeting still bothering him so much?

"Julian! Here you are." His head went up at the familiar voice. It was John who came running down the corridor, waving. "I thought I'd have to search the whole floor for you. So here you are!" When he came to a halt, he eyed the young man with a troubled frown.

"I know, that thing with Selim was really bad... But don't blame yourself, Julian, it wasn't your fault, and you know that. He's on the mend, that's all that matters." John watched Julian carefully, then sighed when his friend didn't show any reaction.

He was as tall as Julian, with straw-colored hair and square shoulders. John was a bit sturdier than Julian. He was working as a maintenance engineer for the electric systems within the administration building. Even though his duties kept him fairly busy most of the time, Julian couldn't remember a time when John hadn't been there for sharing his scant spare time with his best friend. And even now Julian was glad, that John was there...

The blond engineer cast him a sympathetic look, finally laying a warm and reassuring hand on Julian's shoulder. "What about having a drink? That'll keep your mind off Selim. Rumors have it that _Vejor_ shouldn't be that bad..."

John grinned, trying to spark Julian's interest. He knew that Julian's thoughts were still dwelling on Selim but what good would it do if he burden himself with things he couldn't change anyway?

"Alright," Julian finally nodded. "My shift begins at _1500_ hours, that leaves me some free time. What about you?"

"My shift's over for today. I had to repair some upper-level panel but now I'm done and De Moll just hasn't any other work for me today. Which means, I can take the rest of the day off." John patted the young man on the shoulder, before he signaled Julian to follow him.

"We gotta hurry then. It's lunchtime and the cafeteria will be crowded like hell by now. Let's see if we manage to find some vacant seats before everybody else does."

Julian just nodded. About to follow the young engineer, he didn't make it far, when John suddenly stopped. With a somewhat awkward grimace, he pointed down to Julian's blood-covered hands.

"But I guess, you should get that off first."

Julian's glance dropped to his hands. His mouth twisted ever so slightly. "I... think you're right. Just go ahead. I'll catch up with you later."

Bidding the young man goodbye, Julian went straight back to his quarters. It didn't take him long to get to the administration building's habitat area – he already knew the way there by heart. When he finally arrived in front of his quarters, he quickly entered the access code, stepped into the living room and made his way straight for the bathroom.

It was not until he had his hands under the warm jet of water that he started to relax. He watched the thin streaks of red run from his hands and pool in the middle of the sink before fresh water washed it all away. He let out a long breath and leaned his head weakly against the mirror above the sink in a futile effort to regain some inner composure. He even washed his face, then stared numbly at his tried reflection in the mirror before he finally grabbed the towel that was lying next to the sink.

About to go, he suddenly hesitated when he spotted the dark-rimmed stains on his uniform sleeve. He turned on the water one more time and tried as best he could to wash the stains out of the black fabric. Only when he couldn't make out their rims any more, he stopped and tried to dry his soaked uniform sleeves as good he could.

Not only the uniform, but also his undershirt had been soaked by his action. But he had no time. Hastily he left his quarters, turning in the direction of the cafeteria.

When arrived at the crowded place, he saw with relief that John had managed to pick a table for them at the rear part next to the viewports. Gently pushing his way through the crowd, he finally arrived at John's table, settling down with a heavy sigh of relief.

"I already ordered, if you don't mind."

"Vejor?"

"Cold, with ice, straw and Fruju-slice."

Julian laughed, starting to relax just a little. "Just in case you forgot: I'm still on duty today."

"That's ok, Doctor. I'm sure that one glass won't kill you," John answered amiably while giving a sign to the waitress who brought their drinks where to find them. "And by the way: today we really deserve it. When I think about tomorrow... De Moll said something about heaps of work, if you know what I mean."

"So why don't you do it right now?"

"De Moll told me to take the rest of the day off. And you know what they say: Let sleeping dogs lie…"

Julian just opened his mouth for a snappish remark, when a soft voice suddenly interrupted their conversation. "Sorry, but do you mind if I have a seat?"

Glancing up, Julian felt his heart skip a beat. It was the same woman he had already met in the infirmary this morning. Her black hair fell in waves over her slender shoulders and she was smiling embarrassedly down at him. "It's so hard to find a free seat here. I just saw you from over there and..." she let her words trail off.

John exchanged a quick glance with his friend, before he pointed nonchalantly at the vacant seat at their table. "Oh, of course. Please." The woman gave John another friendly smile, before she sat down next to him.

Julian's grip around his drink tightened. He awkwardly tried to return the smile. Something about her presence was unnerving him. But there was no way that he could be so impolite to send her away just because of some indefinite feeling he didn't even know the reason for. And besides – she looked beautiful. The longer he kept watching her, he more he found himself wondering if she would agree if he invited her for dinner. "Jadzia... Dax, wasn't it?" he frowned.

The woman nodded – apparently happy that he still remembered her name. "Nice to see you again."

"This is John, one of the local engineers," Julian introduced his friend who lifted his glass of Vejor in response. "I see. You two have already met. That's unfair," the blond engineer grimaced in mock disapproval.

"I'm Jadzia."

"Jadzia? Sounds as if you're not from Velurin."

"No, I'm not."

Julian watched her with genuine interest. "May I ask what you're doing here in Velurin? Are you here on business or just on a private holiday trip?"

The black-haired woman shook her head, smiling. "I've heard a lot about Velurin. My grandmother was from here, so I thought, it might be a good idea to come here and visit the place where my grandmother grew up. It's just a trip for a few days, though. I'm not going to stay longer."

Julian felt a dead weight drop from his chest.

"Where do you come from? Somewhere in the south?" John regarded her curiously. "I've got some relatives down in Belerhel, if this sounds familiar to you. Perhaps you've heard about the city. It's a nice place but without these vast areas of green we have here in Velurin."

The foreign woman shook her head again. "Sounds interesting, but I don't think I've ever been there. But what about you? Where are you from?"

Even though she had addressed none of them in particular, her gaze remained fixed on Julian. Had he paled again? His gaze flickered over to the blond engineer, than back to her. Once again, he seemed lost for words, his eyes widening ever so slightly.

"No, we're not from here," John offered, even before Julian had the opportunity to answer. "But we came to Velurin for work. It's a nice city."

Jadzia nodded, casting a brief side-glance at the big digital clock hanging over the cafeteria's bar. She drew in a sudden breath. "Is it really that late? I think I completely lost track of the time during our little conversation." With an apologizing smile she stood, shifting the chair back toward the table. John and Julian watched her in surprise.

"I've got a rendezvous with a friend in a few minutes. Please excuse me. It was a great pleasure to meet you. I hope we'll have the chance to see each other again. Then you have to tell me more about this beautiful city and your work," she said with a wink.

"So see you later," she bade them farewell and looking at Julian for a moment she added, low enough for only him to hear: "It's a pity you can't remember me."

Even before Julian found his voice, she had already disappeared into the shifting crowd of the cafeteria's customers. Perplexed and with a terrified feeling as if he had been slapped in the face, he stared at her back until he felt John's hand patting his shoulder. "What about another Vejor?"

Julian startled, suddenly too tense to bring out anything. He only nodded. Perhaps he had been wrong, perhaps her words hadn't been meant for him. Awkwardly he tore his gaze from the pushing and laughing people in front of him. "You're right," he finally forced himself to say. "Today we really deserved it."

* * *

Coming to a halt in front of the door and touching the control panel to his quarters, he hesitated. He felt tired and worn, exhausted by the long hard day. All he wanted to do now was shower. And then go to bed.

But he still he couldn't bring himself to enter his quarters. Even when the door slid open with its common soft hiss revealing the dark living room behind, he kept lingering at the threshold to his quarters.

He didn't know why. Perhaps it was the incident with Selim that had worn him down. Perhaps it was because of the bad feeling the meeting with the strangers this morning in the infirmary had left him with. Or perhaps it was the confusion about his feelings toward the young woman he'd met in the cafeteria this afternoon. Her last remark was still bothering him. No matter how hard he thought about it, it didn't make any sense. But it kept bothering him nonetheless. Somehow he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. And he didn't like it at all.

What if he just went back to the cafeteria to distract himself? With a quick look down the corridor, he immediately discarded the idea. He was tired, and his body felt so heavy that all he wanted to do now was drop into bed. And besides, he would have to come back here sooner or later. The truth would be waiting for him. He could run away now but the truth would catch up with him sooner or later.

Awkwardly, he willed himself to step over the threshold. "Computer, lights."

Within an instant, his quarters were filled with a comforting brightness. But still his uneasiness wouldn't go away. When he heard the door glide shut behind his back, he slowly let out a long breath, casting a frightened look around. When his gaze fell on the small console in the far left corner of the room, he felt his legs give way. At the same time his pulse sped up to an unbearable level.

The red lamp on the console's even metal surface was blinking at regular intervals.

He had a message.


	3. Chapter 2

**"Hidden Memories" - Chapter 2**

It was already late evening when Sisko finally settled himself on the couch of his habitat quarters, that he had acquired the same morning they had arrived in the city of Velurin. Until now he hadn't had even one single minute of rest. After their meeting with Dr. Bashir hadn't turned out to be as simple as he had imagined it would be, he'd had himself racing up and down the whole place trying to make some further investigations – without any remarkable success, so far. The only thing he knew for sure was that Dr. Julian Bashir was definitely working in the infirmary of the administrative authority of Velurin, but how he had gotten there remained a riddle.

The whole afternoon Sisko had kept struggling with some stubborn and rebuffing bureaucrats who had incessantly tried to get rid of their unpleasant customer sneaking around and poking his nose in affairs that were none of his business. Sisko had to be very discreet and cautious then. He just hadn't wanted to draw too much attention to their small rescue team or the search for their missing crewman. Officially the crash of a Starfleet runabout continued to be denied by the central administrative authority of Felan III. Sisko had known better than to keep inquiring any further with the official authorities. To the government of Felan III it must have seemed as if Captain Benjamin Sisko had given up hope...

He sighed heavily. Perhaps O'Brien had found something out by now. When they had met at _1600_ neither Dax nor the Chief had something definite to present. O'Brien had gone back into town while Dax hadn't had more to report than just the brief meeting with Julian and his friend. In the end, they had separated again. Dax had preferred to stay with Julian whereas Sisko had squared his shoulders and went to knock once more at the door of some stupid bureaucrat.

When he had finally gotten to his quarters an hour ago it had already been late. Too late to go and contact his two officers. So he rescheduled their meeting for tomorrow morning, seriously doubting that O'Brien or Dax had found anything out more than he had – nothing, that is.

He was just about to stand up in order to go and snatch some hours of sleep when the high-pitched chime of the door suddenly broke the silence. Smoothing his shirt he turned.

"Come in!" he said in the same military tone he always used aboard his station. Shaking his head he reminded himself that this wasn't DS9 and that he didn't have to bark orders right now. With a more gentle voice he added "Come in, please."

When the door slid open he instinctively expected to see one of his senior staff officers but the figure standing now in the doorway wasn't of any familiarity at all. Or did he know him?

When the person stepped closer, Sisko recognized the young man who had come rushing into the infirmary the same morning, involuntarily interrupting their conversation with Bashir.

"Excuse me, Mr. Sisko, but we've got to have a talk." He seemed rather embarrassed about having to disturb Sisko this late in the evening, but with the door closing in his back he awkwardly offered Sisko his hand.

"I'm John, engineer of the upper department, in charge of electricity and the maintenance of the upper systems. I'm sorry to bother you now but..." Hesitating, he passed his hand nervously through his blond hair.

"...it's about Julian."

Slightly surprised, the captain pointed to a vacant seat. Warily – as if coming to see Sisko hadn't been a good idea at all – John sat down, casting a curious look around before facing the captain again.

"You're from Starfleet, aren't you? If you're the commanding officer, you must be Captain Sisko..."

Sisko knit his brows in surprise. "How did you know?"

"From Julian."

"I'm not sure we're talking about the same Julian. When we visited him in the infirmary this morning he didn't seem to recognize anyone of us. How could he have told you?"

John looked around as if he was afraid of someone eavesdropping, then leaned closer, trying to avoid Sisko's questioning gaze.

"He...told me when he first arrived."

"Three months ago?"

Reluctantly John nodded.

"What happened then? I lost one of my most important officers, I want him back."

"That's not possible. Please, believe me, it's not that easy."

John took a deep breath.

Somehow Sisko felt as if he didn't really want an answer to his question. But he needed one. Something had happened to his chief medical officer and he had to know what. "Please, John, we need to help Julian. What happened?"

John shook his head resolutely, a dark frown on his face. "No. I can't. I just wanted to let you know that you have to keep away from Julian. That's the best for you and him. Please, I beg of you, no matter how much you wish to have your officer back, keep away from him. I don't want Julian to suffer any more. And he will – if you keep trying to get him back."

Unconsciously shaking his head, Sisko leaned towards the young man, propping himself onto his knees. He just couldn't catch up. What the hell was John talking about?

"Why's it bad for him to know who we really are – who he really is? We just want to help him. Something is utterly wrong with Julian and you're the person that has to tell the truth. You're his friend. You just want him to be safe – and so do we. But leaving him here is not a solution. We don't even know what exactly happened to him three months ago." Sisko felt his temper rise, though he tried to keep his voice low.

"Was he brainwashed? Was he injured in the shuttle crash? Why can't Julian remember anyone of us?" he tried in a mild tone.

The silence that followed was engulfing. He could see some indefinite feelings shimmering in John's steady eyes. Grief, fear, hatred, shame or anger. Finally the young engineer clenched his fists. "I'm sorry, that's all I can tell you. Please keep away from Julian."

Even before Sisko was able to hold him back, John had gotten to his feet, spun around and left the quarters without any further word. Considering running after him Sisko had already scrambled to his feet, be then he hesitated.

If he wanted to know the truth he needed to gain the young man's trust. Threatening or urging him would just make things worse. And he couldn't risk losing the only person on this planet who might even be able to help them...

* * *

"But we can't leave him behind! Not in his present condition anyway!" 

O'Brien's flushed face showed signs of apparent, genuine indignation as he lowered the coffee mug with a loud thud. He had just lain down a few minutes ago when the persistent and unnerving chime had woken him from the twilight of sleep. He hadn't been too surprised to find Sisko and Dax standing in front of his quarters, though, with dark faces and some news for him that turned out to be even darker. Rubbing his strained eyes and trying to wipe away the tiredness, he focused on the captain again.

"Chief, no one said anything about _leaving _him _behind_," Sisko tried with his deep, stern voice, though it didn't sound too convincing to the Irishman.

"You wouldn't just trust any unknown guy claiming to be Julian's friend, and demanding for you to leave him here – without any further explanation at all – would you? And that in the middle of the night," he added with contempt, though it was not clear whether his anger was directed towards that strange and mysterious engineer or the captain who was even _considering_ the alternative of abandoning his crewman after they had finally found him.

"Chief, I think you got me wrong," Sisko said slowly, stressing each single word.

"I'll never return to DS9 leaving Dr. Bashir behind. But that's exactly the kind of thing everyone is expecting us to do. The central administrative authority, the bureaucrats of Velurin and now this young man claiming to know Julian."

"He isn't just claiming to know him, Benjamin. Their friends. I've already met them together." Dax clear voice broke off the argument. "When I met them in the afternoon, they seemed to be some very good friends indeed."

Snorting scornfully O'Brien met her gaze. "So, if they're such good friends, why isn't he willing to tell us about Julian?" he retorted in a way Dax could sense his disappointment about having lost his best friend to somebody he didn't even know – least of all trust.

Looking down to the ground, O'Brien took a deep breath to calm down. Had that been the worth of their friendship? All those hours they had spent in the holosuite. All those fits of rage he'd had to endure from his wife when he had spent too much time with Julian instead of his family. It had always taken him great effort to convince Keiko that she remained the main centre of his life - she was his wife, after all - and that he loved her. And all that should be forgotten in only three months?

"Well, if you ask me, we ought to have a serious talk with that John. If he isn't able to help us, who else is?"

Sisko shook his head. "Leave it to me, Chief. I'll go and talk to him. Besides, have you found out anything about the runabout yet?"

O'Brien tried to keep his temper low though he couldn't bring himself to banish the anger completely out of his voice. "So far I haven't found anything yet. Nothing's out of order, but I'll have another look in the eastern part of the woods. If Julian really crashed down there, there must be some detectable emissions remaining, like a rest of the ion signature or short-ranged radiancies of the runabout's hull break. I've already had the southern and western part of Velurin scanned for congruent details but I haven't found anything yet. But if you ask me, the easiest way would be to get a combadge on Julian and beam him out as soon as we can. There's plenty of time then to see what happened to him, why he can't recall the time before Velurin. At least he would be safe on the Orinoco. Safer than here, if what John said is true, that is."

Dax dismissively shook her head. "We can't contact the Orinoco yet but apart from that, I don't think it would be a good idea to get him off like this. Not without contacting the station first and getting reinforcement of the Defiant. We shouldn't risk anything by acting too rashly. I doubt that Julian is in any immediate danger anyway. Leaving out the fact that we are not welcome here or that our efforts to find out more about the incident are not very appreciated, we haven't had any actual problems yet. Better not defy any danger before we can handle it. When the Orinoco comes in reach for communication again we can send a message to Kira but until then we can still use the time to find something out without attracting too much attention."

Sisko nodded absently. "Dax, I'd like you to get a closer look at Bashir and this young engineer. Perhaps you can gain their trust."

"I'll do my best. Getting closer to him shouldn't be that difficult. He's a doctor, after all," she smiled before stretching out both arms in front of her chest and stifling a yawn. "Until then, though, I'd suggest we go back to sleep – unless there's anything important to do right now."

Taking the hint, Sisko dismissed his officers, glad about finally finding rest after those past hours of mental struggle. However, he hadn't told Dax and O'Brien the real reason for not wanting to get Julian off the planet the way O'Brien had suggested earlier, for insisting to find out what exactly had happened those three months ago. Of course the chief's reaction was understandable. But he didn't know the details.

Sisko hadn't told them about his vision back on DS9, about the prophets who had urged him to act.

_The existence of our kind is in danger._

Mulling it over he wondered what they had meant. They hadn't spoken clearly to him, more in a riddle – but he knew they were serious then.

When they had finally made it to Felan III the others might have thought it a pure coincidence to find remains of Bashir's ion signature still in the orbit, but Sisko knew it better. They had been lead there. No, _he_ had been lead there and if he knew one thing for sure it was that the problems wouldn't be solved just by taking Bashir back to DS9.

Something had happened in the last three months. Something that was now endangering the existence of the prophets. He wasn't sure about it yet, but he was resolute to find it out. And he knew that Bashir was the key to it.

* * *

"Damn thing!" 

He immediately regretted the violent kick against the metal bin he had tripped over only seconds before, when a stabbing and numbing pain flared up his right foot. Angrily he jumped on the remaining one till the numbness gradually faded from his toes and he was able to gently strain it again.

What the hell was the reason for such a dangerous, bulky bin in the middle of the woods? No one could expect him to have his eyes everywhere – especially not far down below the dense shield fern whose giant sombre-tinged leaves blocked out the entire ground from view. How would he have liked to kick that damn thing again, transporting it right into the next swamphole. However, he didn't have time to take a chance and completely break his foot. Sisko probably wouldn't be too appreciative. Biting back a blunt curse, he limped back a few meters and dropped himself onto one of the many gnarled trunks, cautiously taking care of his injured foot, though it was not so much the physical pain that made his anger rise.

Why hadn't Julian recognized them? He had greeted them as if they were nothing more than strangers, had shown no sign of joy or relief to meet his old friends again, people who once had filled an important, essential part of his life. When they had left the infirmary that morning he had immediately wished to run after Julian, but Sisko wouldn't have let him. For some reason he had respected Sisko's wish then - perhaps there was more behind the whole issue than he had originally thought. Julian spending three solid months on the planet without anyone deeming it necessary to contact Starfleet was odd. No matter how often he mulled it over again, he couldn't understand the Felani. He knew very well that they appreciated their isolation – he couldn't see anything wrong with that. Apart from the fact that Julian must apparently be kept on the planet against his will.

Why else would the Felani make such a secret of Bashir's whereabouts in Velurin? Captain Sisko had told him that the administrative authority of Velurin vigorously rejected to cooperate on that issue and that was reason enough for O'Brien to become suspicious – added to that the fact that Julian seemed to have no recollection to his past life before Velurin.

He would never have thought it possible that he would have to meet Julian again like he had met him that very first day on the station, four years ago. He hadn't liked him then – well, to be honest, even that was an understatement. In truth he hadn't been able to stand him. Arrogant, presuming and overbearing. That was how he had gotten to know the young doctor those days.

He didn't know how or when - perhaps he hadn't even realized it then - but that young, arrogant doctor had changed. And so had O'Brien's attitude towards him. Perhaps his dislike for Julian and everything involving him had just been some kind of latent envy for his youth and naivete, his desire for adventure and seeking for challenges far away from what he had been calling home for all the years before. Eventually their relationship had changed. Julian had become his friend. His best friend. Not to be recognized by him any more had hurt. He was afraid that he would lose his friend, that he might have to start all over again. Julian was important to him – one of the reasons for volunteering for the rescue mission back on DS9. Somehow he had felt guilty just to sit there doing nothing, waiting for things to turn out right in the end. Waiting till Julian would finally come back. But he also knew that Julian relied on him. He didn't want to betray his trust. Julian would have done the same for him.

Sighing heavily, O'Brien flung open his tricorder, scanning the environment once more. The emissions had increased. Casting a suspicious look around, he tried to make out anything abnormal. Anything that might give him a hint as for where to look for the signs he was searching for. But the only things he saw were those voluptuous fernleaves as well as the huge, thick trunks of the meter-high trees. He looked again at his tricorder – the emission definitely _was_ there.

It had been pure coincidence, though, when he had recorded it at the northern end of the city, near the dense forest for the first time an hour ago. Even then he hadn't known for sure what the strange emission really meant but if he wanted to find out the truth about what had happened three months ago he had to pay attention to every smallest chance of a hint. Perhaps he wouldn't have taken notice under normal circumstances and would have kept on walking and scanning the environment without even having a look at the slightly deviating background radiation that could well lead back to a natural origin – but these weren't normal circumstances. O'Brien had tracked down the faint and indefinite emission causing the shift in radiation to this very spot in the middle of the forest. It had gradually increased, though he hadn't been able to tell what the reason for such an interference really was. But he knew one thing for sure now: This emission was not natural. Not at all. And that was reason enough to make some further investigations.

Standing in the middle of the forest, he began to doubt his previous suspicion, though. Even if there was some kind of emission here, so far away from the town, where could it possibly emanate from? It was too weak for a defense shield. Even a holo-emitter wouldn't create such a field. But what was it then? According to his readouts there was no person around in a radius of one kilometer, even though the emission had reached its maximum at the very point O'Brien was standing on.

Suddenly he had an idea, spinning around to the metal bin. Bending the fernleaves apart he spotted an knee-high, plain metal container with a black and even surface. There was no other sign as for its use. Passing one open hand intently over its top, he cast a swift look at the tricorder but he couldn't make out anything special about it. Perhaps there wasn't any particular importance to it at all – but why should someone dump it in the middle of a forest? For Starfleet officers sneaking around to bump their feet against it? Surely not. No matter what it was, it was suspicious. And under the circumstances it was the only thing that had evoked O'Brien's interest so far.

Looking around one last time, he marked the exact position on the display. As soon as he had informed Sisko and Dax, they would return and have a closer look at that thing.

* * *

When she entered the infirmary, he was bending down over one of the many consoles, not paying any attention to the faint hiss, normally announcing the arrival of incoming patients. Even when the door slid shut at her back, he didn't seem to realize that she was there. Clearing her throat in an audible way, she stepped closer. 

"Excuse me, but..." she began, letting the rest of the sentence involuntarily taper off when the young man suddenly spun around, apparently startled to see her stand there.

He looked bad. She couldn't tell what exactly had changed about him, but she knew Julian. His once-bright vitality had entirely vanished, leaving behind a weary and blank expression on his pallid face. Awkwardly he tried to force a smile on his lips, but she knew it wasn't genuine.

It seemed as if it took him a great deal of effort not to let his bad condition shine through – and he might have even been successful with a stranger. But she wasn't a stranger. She knew him all too well to let his forced and shammed masquerade delude her, no matter how hard he tried.

He had his right arm in a sling around his neck, the white bandage wrapped around his forearm, protruding from beneath the black sleeve of his uniform.

"What happened to your arm?" she asked in an alarmed tone, already stepping closer.

"Well, it's not as bad as it seems, really. Just a small injury in the gym yesterday. John and I were playing like hell but I think somehow I didn't see the net and - there I lay," he shrugged, smiling wearily in a futile attempt of soothing her.

"Is it broken?"

Frowning slightly Julian shook his head. "Just strained – I think."

"Why haven't you had yourself treated? Surely it hurts a lot."

"No, I told you, it's not too bad. An besides, the dermal generator is malfunctioning and John hasn't had any time to repair it, yet. But I assure you, it's nothing," he added quickly - too quickly.

He lied. Even his dark eyes betrayed the hurt and pain he was feeling in that very moment.

"You're sure, you can work? Perhaps you better take a rest."

"No. The injury won't keep me from caring for my patients," he smiled, showing the typical bashirish bedside manner. She hadn't known how much she had missed it in the past months he hadn't been among them... "What can I do for you?"

Walking over to one of the biobeds, she made up some symptoms of a non-existing stomach ache, knowing that it wouldn't sound very convincing to a doctor. The lie had to do, though. Wondering how to direct the conversation back to yesterday's afternoon, she turned to face him when Julian suddenly stopped in mid-stride.

"You feel alright, Julian? You don't seem to be fine at all," she held.

Covering his eyes with his good hand, the young man slowly shook his head. "I just feel a bit dizzy, that's all. It'll pass..."

Instinctively Dax reached out for her tricorder – just to realize that she had left it in her quarters. Hastily she cast a look around until she spotted some small device, quite similar to her Starfleet tricorder. Even though she didn't know how to handle it exactly, she flung it open, surprised to find the display so familiar to Starfleet technology.

Lowering his arm and bracing himself on the edge of the biobed beneath, Julian eyed her in confusion while Dax ran a short diagnostic on the young doctor.

"What..." he began slightly irritated, just to be interrupted by the Trill's worried and strained voice.

"Your values are almost completely down ..."

_That's it._ She had known the instant she had entered the room and had spotted him, that something was wrong with him. He was nearly about to collapse. How could he even manage to stand?

"I..."

Pulling gently at his arm, she forced him to sit down on the biobed. Although he didn't seem to share her worry, he obeyed without offering any resistance, his face a faint grimace.

"I assure you, Jadzia," he began slowly "I'm absolutely..."

The last words never made it past his lips, when the upper part of his body suddenly tipped over, making her instinctively reach out and catch his unconscious body before it had the chance to fall backwards off the biobed. Cautiously she drew him up before easing his slack and unmoving body down onto the bed. He didn't move, his chest seeming to hardly take in any breath at all. Hastily grabbing the medical tricorder again she flicked through the readouts, letting out a short sigh of relief when she stated that his pulse was steady, after all. He had lost consciousness – a physical breakdown as far as she could assess from the readouts. At least he didn't seem to be in any life threatening danger apart from the immoderate and unnatural exhaustion he had obviously suffered – though she could not in the least figure what it was due to. However, seeing him in his present condition made an uncomfortable and guilty shiver run down her spine...

Pulling a blanket from one of the racks next to her, she gently tucked it around his motionless body, leaving out the injured arm.

"I'm sorry, Julian," she whispered anxiously.

It didn't take her long to find what she was looking for. The dermal tissue generator was posed in one of the many stacks in the back part of the infirmary, though it was everything but defective. A violet, warm light was emanating from it as soon as Dax turned it on. Slightly confused, she went back to Bashir and carefully pulled up the uniform sleeve of his right arm. Having cautiously winded off the white bandage, her gaze dropped to the swollen flesh of the young man's broken arm. It really seemed to be a fracture, although she couldn't imagine what might have caused it, apart from what Julian had told her about the gym. It didn't look like a injury during sports at all. Even though the bandage looked kind of primitive in contrast to the many technical devices that filled the infirmary, the fracture had been treated properly, with a splint straightening the injured arm, ensuring that the bones would grow together in the right way.

She slowly ran the dermal tissue generator over the injury, trying to do her best, though she didn't know the exact medical treatment. After some minutes the violet-tinged swelling lessened till it finally vanished. Julian would have to spare his arm for the next few days but the fracture was as good as undone. Wondering if she should go tell Sisko she sighed, recalling that he might still be in battle with some bureaucrat and therefore not very easy to contact without a combadge.

She considered calling for some medical assistant to take care of the unconscious Bashir, but directing her gaze towards the chart of the biobed, she let that idea drop. When there was one thing he needed above all, it was rest. Whatever he might have done or wherever he might have gotten the injury, his body had finally collapsed and the exhaustion was claiming its tribute. So she decided to wait, uneasiness growing within her chest with every minute running by.

O'Brien had been right. She scolded herself for not having handled the whole issue as seriously as she should have done right from the beginning. It still was Julian's life, his health – physical and mental – they were making light of. Just seeing him safe and sound had made it easy for them, making them assume that nothing had changed after all - but apparently something had. And now it was up to them to prevent further harm from being done.

Softly passing her hand over his sleeping face she felt resolute for the first time. They had to get him out of here. As fast as possible.

* * *

Crude light spilled through the gap of his nearly-closed eyelids, making him groan involuntarily when he slowly opened his eyes. Shutting them against the unnatural brightness, he wished to slide back into that all-surrounding darkness that had been holding him for the past hours, behind its veil of blankness and silence. 

He didn't know where he was or how he had gotten there. But it felt good. The constant and creeping pain had vanished and his body felt stronger than hours ago. Only the dizziness in his head hadn't settled completely, so he kept his eyelids shut, lingering in that twilight between dream and reality.

A gentle touch on his arm made him reluctantly open his eyes again.

It was the young woman, with her black hair and a worried face, bending over him.

"How are you?" she asked in a friendly tone, running a diagnostic with the scanner, barely taking her eyes off him.

He felt weak and longed for quiet and rest but he just answered: "Better."

A faint but genuine smile crossed her lips. She looked beautiful, her dark hair falling over her shoulders in an almost seducing way. She seemed to be honestly relieved to see that he already felt better. Somehow she even seemed familiar to him. Like a fleeting daydream – untouchable and swift.

"I'm glad to hear that."

He tried to draw himself up, but in a split second his vision was drowned in darkness again. Groaning softly, he let himself fall back onto the bed, automatically covering his eyes and trying to clear his mind from the haze and whirling that made it hard to think.

_Something was odd, though._

It was an indefinite feeling, a bad misgiving. At first he wasn't sure what exactly was worrying him. Staring in confusion at his right hand in front of his eyes, the fatale, momentous truth slowly seeped into his consciousness. And suddenly everything broke down upon him.

"What...what about my arm?" he stammered almost incoherently, his voice twisted with disbelief and fear.

The woman tried to calm him, laying both hands on his shoulders, preventing him from standing up too quickly.

"It's okay, Julian. You're in the infirmary. You had a breakdown some hours ago and slept until now," she tried, gently pushing him back onto the mattress.

Julian stared at her aghast. He was nearly about to panic.

"I tended your arm while you were asleep," she answered in response to his unspoken question.

Julian's thoughts began to spin. She had tended his arm. His arm wasn't broken any more. He hardly even blinked for the next few seconds, staring at her as if it still took him time to realize the real dimension of her confession, his face losing every bit of colour left.

"He'll think I tried to..." he whispered desperately under his breath.

Even before Jadzia had any chance of holding him back, Julian had already rolled over to the opposite side of the bed, scrambling and staggering to his feet. His body felt still weak and he was afraid that his legs might inadvertently give way when he swiftly braced himself on the bed.

"Julian? What's the matter?"

He didn't even notice her shrill voice; so deeply was he filled with fear. Fear of what might happen if he found out. Fear of having to go through it all over again. Fear of the pain...

He had to pay for it before it was too late. It mustn't be. He knew it was fatally wrong.

His vision blurred, though he knew what he had to do.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Julian? What are you doing? Julian!"

Whirling around the biobed, a startled and confused Jadzia tried to seize the young doctor's arm. Something was utterly wrong about him. She didn't know what had gotten into Julian but she had to stop him. Slipping from her grip, he didn't pay any attention to her frightened calls when she set off behind him. Stumbling towards the metal rack near the door, he didn't react to any of her words. Some bad misgiving already told her what he was up to.

"JULIAN! DON'T!"

She gripped his shoulder in time to desperately drag him back with all her strength, trying to get hold of his arms, but he flailed out wildly to free himself from her grip.

"Stop it, Julian! Please!" Dax shouted decidedly. It took her a great effort to keep him in check. Even though his body was still debilitated and he didn't dispose of his full strength at all, he vigorously tried to push her away, fighting with a strength that she didn't know where it suddenly came from. Even so, Dax held his arms tightly behind his back while Julian didn't give up trying to wriggle himself free.

"Let me go!"

His voice was full of panic, his eyes wide and his breath chopped, as if life itself depended on it. Julian finally managed to free his left arm, but when he spun around she slapped his face as hard as she could. He obviously was beyond reason. Her only thought was that she had to bring him back to it before he hurt himself seriously.

The slap made him stagger back, throwing his free arm up to cover his face. Confused by this sudden gesture the young woman hesitated a short moment, but it was enough time for Julian to toss her down to the ground.

"Julian! NO!" she yelled, scrambling to her feet.

But it was too late.

Reaching the rack, with all his remaining strength and without hesitation, the young man hit his arm against the edge of the metal strut. She could hear the sharp snap of bones when the arm hit the metal surface, making her stomach involuntarily turn.

It took her a few seconds to overcome the shock about what Julian had just done, to realize the fatality of it all. Reluctantly drawing herself up again, she neared him cautiously. Julian held his again broken arm with his good hand, his hunched shoulders shaking heavily as he stood there without any further motion. She didn't even dare touch him in fear he would panic again.

"Julian?"

It was doubtless he was in shock. He didn't even react. His head bend down and staring at his injured arm as if not being able to grasp what he had just done himself, he panted erratically for breath.

"Julian, I'll walk you over to the biobed, alright?" she tried with an unsteady voice, gently taking his trembling hand into hers. "It's alright now. Everything's going to be alright."

Without offering any resistance he let himself be lead back to the bed, though he didn't face her. His face was as pale as chalk and the heated fire within his eyes had suddenly died down, leaving back only a blank shimmer of profound anguish when she made him sit down on the black mattress.

Jadzia didn't know what had caused the sudden panic attack in Bashir but she was shocked to see what Julian had done to himself. She didn't know what had happened to him to make him react like this, but she knew there was only one person who could tell her. She couldn't think of anything else. Not after having beared witness of what Julian had done – the young man she had thought to know. The young man she definitely _had_ known until three months ago. But this wasn't their Julian any more.

"I'll go and find John. Don't run away, Julian. I just want to help you. Please, don't move till I'm back."

Looking into his cloudy eyes directing their gaze towards the ground, she doubted that he even was able to in his present condition.

"That's no longer necessary."

Startled, Dax whirled around just to meet the dark and serious frown on John's face. He was standing in the doorway, still motionless. She hadn't even noticed him enter. Nevertheless he was there, now nearing her with a stern and reproachful look.

"I'll take care of him. Please leave the infirmary now. You've already done enough harm."

Without any further word he passed the young Trill, waited for her to leave. She had already opened her mouth in response, trying to overcome the dryness that was making her unable to bring forth anything but a croaky whisper, when her gaze dropped to Bashir who still didn't show the smallest hint of reaction. The painful twinge within her chest finally made her realize that it was no time for argument now. Hardly noticeable, she nodded and with a last concerned look Dax left the room.

* * *

Jadzia Dax kept striding up and down the corridor, wondering how much time had already gone by since the incident with Julian. 

She had never seen him like that before.

As long as she could think back, she had seen Julian in various kinds of exhausted conditions, mostly because of his work and his strong feeling of responsibility. Julian disposed of the great gift to put his own needs back, in favor of those who needed his help. It had often happened that the young doctor had overestimated himself and that somebody had to make him realize that an exhausted doctor was of no use to anyone.

Julian could bring himself to the edge of his strength, there was no doubt to that, but what she had seen back in the infirmary hadn't been a Dr. Bashir exhausted by work – taking into account that he had hardly as many patients here as he'd had on DS9. The Dr. Bashir she had faced had suffered. His entire body had been pushed to the verge of what was possible and it had been more than astonishing that he still had been able to will himself to stand. The longer she thought about it, the more uncomfortable she grew.

She wasn't at all sure what to do now. Contacting Benjamin or O'Brien was almost impossible; for Benjamin was surely still struggling with some official of Velurin and therefore difficult to inform of what had just happened. And for the chief – he was still somewhere out in the area surrounding the city and wouldn't be back until the late evening. For some seconds she considered going straight back to the infirmary but she immediately dropped this idea. John's words might have hurt – but he had been right. More than one time. Ever since they had arrived in Velurin their effort to get Bashir back, it had unpredictable, negative secondary effects. But what choice did they have? Whatever had happened to Julian, they had to find it out – the faster the better. Dax was pretty sure that John would know where Julian's injury came from, for it was surely not the match that had caused it.

Even though his injury had worried her it was nothing compared to the worry she felt right now, having seen Bashir's reaction when he had realized that she had tended his arm.

She couldn't think of a reason for his fear and panic then. Julian was a rational person – or at least, most of the time. She could hardly think of what had driven him to act like this, though seeing him this haggard and irrational made her stomach turn. That hadn't been Julian. At least not the Julian she had known. The young man she had spent most of the past four years with.

The Julian back in the infirmary had been frightened, distraught. He hadn't reacted to any of her words, no matter if they were spoken in worry or command. It made her feel anxious. No matter what had caused his overreacting, Julian obviously had considered the pain of a broken arm the lesser evil compared to whatever he had been so utterly afraid of. No, she could no longer leave him in such danger. She had to act. Even if she didn't know what exactly to do, she knew that she _had_ to do something. Now.

Hastily she turned to head off for the infirmary.

* * *

Entering the room, she wasn't too surprised to find it empty. Neither John nor Julian were still there. Apparently they had wanted to avoid the situation of having to meet Jadzia again. But where might they have gone? In Julian's present condition he needed one thing above all: rest. So that just left John's quarters or Julian's. 

She decided on the latter, asked at the information – down on the first floor in the brightly lit entry hall – what direction to take and made her way to Julian's quarters. It didn't take her long to find it, though. Impatiently she tapped on the chime but it was not until the third chime that she was finally asked to enter. Cautiously, but with urging resolution, she stepped in.

"I thought you would come..."

John sat, with his head propped on his hands, on one of the sofas, not facing her. His voice was no more than a sigh. No anger, no reproach. His steady calmness just increased her uneasiness.

"Please, have a seat."

Jadzia nodded. "Where's Julian? Is he alright?"

"He's sleeping, but he's fine, considering the circumstances."

Dax sat down to face him, though it was hard for her to just leave it with John's last remark. Still worrying about the young doctor, she watched John carefully for a long time till she finally spoke.

"John, what's going on here?" she whispered, for everything louder than a whisper seemed inappropriate to the heavy silence that had lain down on the room, thickening the air in a way that made it difficult for Dax to breathe. "I know, you won't tell because you're afraid of Julian having to suffer from the consequences. But what was that all about in the infirmary? That young man wasn't the man I once knew. I don't recognize my friend any more, I thought I knew him, but I don't. What happened in the infirmary – that wasn't him." She paused, drawing a deep breath. "Please, tell me what happened to Julian. Tell me why he has changed so much."

John stared expressionlessly to the floor – but finally he returned her gaze.

"You mustn't have interfered. I've already told you that Julian would be the first to suffer. But you just wouldn't listen to me," hesnorted in contempt.

Dax nodded. "I know that now. But why wouldn't he let me treat his broken arm? He told me the dermal generator was defective, though it seemed okay when I used it. Why would he just stick with having his injury treated in that old-fashioned way of split and bandage?"

"Because this is a different place than where you come from."

Dax frowned. "Different?"

"This place is not the kind of paradise you imagine it to be. To be true, it's hell and worse. At least for everybody who knows."

"Who knows _what_?"

John dismissively shook his head. "Forget about it. I just wanted to say that Velurin isn't quite the lovely little town you tourists believe, though the place really seems to evoke that image..."

"So why are you still here?"

The engineer chuckled humourlessly. "Why? That's a good question with a simple, plain answer: Because I'm forced to. Do you really think I'd voluntarily stay at a place that is hell for me? I don't have any other choice – and neither does Julian."

Some vague sense of apprehension reminded her to be careful when she said: "Why don't you let us help you? We can take you away from here, you just have to say what is happening. John, we came to bring Julian home. He's been missing for three months but we haven't given up hope to find him again. Living. And now we're here. Do you think we want to harm him? He doesn't belong here. You tell me that something – someone – is forcing him to stay, but we don't even know what – or who this person – could be."

"Believe me, Jadzia. You don't want to find out," John retorted in dismay leaving behind an even more confused look on the Trill's worried face.

"I believe you when you say that you just want the best for Julian and I really would help you if there were the smallest chance of getting him away from here. But as things are you should get away before you attract any attention yourself. Do you know that even speaking to you is a great risk to me?"

Dax shook her head. "I don't understand. I can't share your fear as long as I don't know what is going on here, anyway."

John sighed in resignation, shaking his head in a manner that indicated his frustration with the stubbornness and foolishness of people who hadn't listened to a single word he had spoken so far. "Very well then. I'll show you. Please don't ask me to tell you. If you really want to see it, I'll show you."

"You mean, something concerning Julian?"

He passed one hand through his short hair before slowly drawing himself up, watching her out of eyes shimmering with sadness and anguish.

"Take your captain with you, or the other officer. After I have shown you, you'll understand. But you have to promise that you won't bother Julian any more. That's the only condition. Perhaps you'll understand if you see it with your own eyes, perhaps you will then listen to my words. I don't want you to forget that Julian is my friend. I'm not holding you back because I don't want him to go, because I'm so selfish as not to let him have his old life back. I'm doing this because he's my friend – and because I want him to be safe. After you've seen, you'll leave him alone because there won't be anything you could do to help him. That's all I ask of you."

Not sure what John's words really meant, Dax nodded shortly. "Alright."

"I'll tell you the exact time and place when we'll meet again. It might take some time – two or three days... I'll send you a massage. But until then..." he stared at her with calm resolution.

"...we won't bother you or Julian any more," Dax ended the sentence, holding the young man's gaze.

When he finally nodded, she slowly rose to her feet, smoothing her dress as she cast a last anxious look towards the doors of the bedroom. Then she left.

Waiting for the door to close behind her back, she let herself drop against one of the walls, letting out a silent sigh of relief. She could barely believe it. John had agreed to show them Julian's secret but deep within her heart she already knew that the incident in the infirmary had just been the beginning of it all. And she was everything but sure if she was ready to face the truth – whatever that might be.

At least she would keep her promise and stay away from the two young men. Stepping into the hallway she started off for the main building. She had to find and tell Benjamin.

**To be continued...**

* * *

Now, of course the story is not finished here! There still plenty to tell and plenty to learn about what had happened that lead to Bashir getting stuck at this strange place - and of course why he acted as unpredictable as he did :) 

I thought it better not to post the story peacemeal but as a whole as soon as I'll have it finished, that's why there hasn't been any new chapter added for some time. At the moment I'm working on the last chapter so perhaps I'll be finally able to post the rest of the story in the end of June. However, thank you veeeeery much for your many reviews so far! That really got me motivated:)) I'll try my best to finish the story as soon as possible!

Love, Mijra


	4. Chapter 3

**Hidden Memories – Chapter 3**

Something was unnerving her, though she couldn't exactly tell what it was that had been nagging at her nerves ever since she had woken up this morning, which was earlier than she normally used to. Pacing up and down the small office, she threw a quick glance through the closed doors of the captain's room, taking in the busy activity that was filling Ops.

It had been more than a week, hadn't it? More than three days since she had last received message from Ensign Perris. And although the next contact wasn't due until tomorrow, it couldn't keep her from feeling the slight hint of anxiety. Perhaps it was just an indefinite, bad feeling, but she couldn't bring herself to banish it completely out of her mind – but she couldn't explain it either.

Taking a short breath she stepped out of the office, and forced on a matter-of-fact face, trying to concentrate on other, more important things.

"What have we got today?"

A young ensign – Kira dimly recalled her as Natasha Williams – looking absently at her console suddenly cocked up her head, her mouth slightly twisted with unease as she faced the major.

"I'm... not sure, Sir, but the wormhole's neutrino emissions are higher than usual. I don't think it's something to worry about, though. Given the increasing tachyon emissions caused by the unusual high traffic through the wormhole as of late, fluctuations like this are quite normal..."

With a short nod, Kira stepped down the few stairs so she was level to the young ensign; taking in her anxious expression and wondering what Williams wasn't telling her.

"Anything else?" Kira asked in a firm voice.

"Well... some time ago the wormhole has opened and closed – apparently without reason," Williams added reluctantly before concentrating again on the console in front of her.

"However, neutrino emissions are already running back to normal by now. Perhaps it was just a natural interference."

Kira nodded, the strange feeling of misgiving still not willing to subside. But maybe she was just stressed. The backlog of work was amazing, having kept her inside her office all day long. She hadn't realized that it was already late in the afternoon when she had finally set aside the current PADD in order to have herself a cup of raktajino. Massaging her stiff neck, she turned to go back and finish where she had left off.

"Major!"

She hadn't made it up the stairs, when the constable slowly rose in sight.

"I thought I would find you here."

Kira couldn't help a smile. "As always, I suppose. How can I help you?"

When the turbolift settled down to level, Odo stepped forward, holding up a small PADD and presenting it to her. Kira flicked through it, than nodded.

"I think you already talked about this security upgrade with Captain Sisko," she absently said.

"Well, I have, and that's the problem. The captain's away for an undetermined amount of time and the upgrade is more than overdue. I would feel better if you could just give me your permission."

As Kira's frown deepened, Odo folded both arms in front of his chest. "Well, given your expression, I take it that he hasn't reported to you, yet," the constable snorted. "You shouldn't be too worried about the captain, Major. It happens that in the past, Captain Sisko knew very well how to stay out of trouble. If he has any news for us, he'll let us know."

The Bajoran woman shook her head in surprise. "Oh, no, that's not it, Odo. It's just... well, honestly, I don't know what it is. Everything seems alright but somehow – I have a bad feeling, that's all."

Odo nodded, though Kira couldn't tell if he really understood or if he was just letting her know that he accepted her point of view.

"I mean, Captain Sisko's sudden departure – it was all a little bit strange."

"Suddenly departing on a rescue mission of a crewman who had been declared missing by Starfleet months ago – which is obviously not going to change in the foreseeable future –is odd indeed. More so, when you do it in the middle of the night."

Kira sighed, smiling gratefully. "Thanks Odo. It's good to hear that I'm not the only one who's not considering Captain Sisko's sudden departure a regular Starfleet course of action."

With a brief snort Odo took again the PADD the Major was handing him, then made his way back to the turbolift.

"If you're so concerned about Sisko and the others, I don't think lieutenant Perris will consider it disturbing to receive a little unexpected call from home," Odo added casually when he was slowly carried out of her sight again.

Mulling his words over, Kira turned to face the big viewscreen of Ops, normally illuminated with the view of the vast and endless universe, its millions of stars reduced to a pinprick-sized brightness, scattered across the dark velvet.

Perhaps she should take Odo's advice. Slowly walking over to Ensign Williams' console, the feeling of indistinct anxiety hit her again, making her wonder why she felt so concerned about Sisko's absence. He had been away more than once, leaving her back at the station. But somehow those occasions had been different.

Beckoning Williams to let her have a look at the readouts, she gently shook her head.

And suddenly she knew. Knew about the uneasiness and the nagging feeling deep down her stomach.

She was worried, no doubt to that. She was worried about Sisko. But this time it was different.

Kira wasn't concerned about the _captain_, but the _Emissary._

_

* * *

_

Julian reluctantly neared the thick iron door on the buildings lowest level. The air was carrying a stale and moldy smell, reminding him of some deserted, decayed cellar, filled with memories of a ghost long gone; long forgotten to everyone so unaware of its existence. Stepping ever further into the darkness that was penetrated only by the meager lights of the electrical lightning – pale and ghostly like nothing he had seen before – he almost got the impression of intruding on secrets that were never meant to be revealed. He stopped in front of the door, very well aware that the outer appearance was only some sort of distorted foretaste of what lay beyond those dark metal doors.

It was always the same.

The more often he came here, the more distasteful and sordid the whole place, deep down in the heart of the earth, on the lowest level of the main authority's building, appeared to him; running an inadvertent but numbing shiver down his spine as soon as he left the familiar surroundings of the turbolift, abandoning him to the uncertain dimness which lay ahead. He hated the way down here, the long time in the turbolift when there was nobody around but cool metal walls, the deafening, crushing silence, the gentle voice deep within his heart urging him to go back, to leave the floods of anxiousness and return to the salving surface...

_Like a drowning man_, he quietly thought, finally placing one hand against the rough metal door.

His heart was pounding so fast he wasn't sure it wouldn't break under the dead weight that had laid itself upon his chest, his breath diminished into a succession of short staccato movements. He hated this feeling. He hated what it did to him, hated this half trembling expectation of the things to come – and he could do absolutely nothing to stop it from flooding his body.

For a short moment, he hesitated. Considering turning on his heels and turning his back on it all, he shook his head, took in a long, calming breath and pushed the door open.

The room behind was only dim-lit, an engulfing twilight spilling through the slender gap between the door's two wings. And it was in that very moment when all of his previous feelings were gone, seeping away like water on a desert's dusty ground. Entering the small room, he tried not to think at all. He was standing there, at the entrance, utterly naked and unprotected underneath his uniform. He knew what was to come, what he had to face, he knew that his life was worthless and knew that it was no longer his…

"Julian, nice to see you," a gentle, deep voice said, its owner stepping out of the shadows and nearing him with a slight smile on an even, almost too perfect face. With his brightly white shirt tucked beneath his scarlet clothing he somehow didn't seem to fit the depressing atmosphere, it even seemed _improper_ in this place.

"You wanted to speak to me, Sir."

Julian's voice was trembling, though he knew he shouldn't be too worried about the fact. He never could keep it from doing that. No matter how much he knew that it was pointless, that his life wasn't his any more, he just couldn't keep his voice from shaking...

"Julian... what about your arm? Does it still hurt?" The scarlet-clad man was rounding him, not taking his eyes off the young man; who still was standing motionless in the middle of the room, his eyes firmly directed in front of him.

Julian didn't dare answer but he knew that not giving any answer at all would be even worse.

"Yes, it's... it'll take some time for the fracture to heal completely..."

"I see... very well," stopping in mid-stride in front of Julian, the elder man's smile suddenly fell, leaving behind tightly pressed lips and the faint indication of a dark frown. "You know, why you are here, don't you?"

Slightly confused, Julian hesitated – and flinchedwhen his face was thrown to the other side by the sudden and violent slap of the other man's open hand. Staring numbly at the floor, not even daring to raise his hand to his throbbing cheek, he wordlessly opened his mouth. He wasn't even sure he could speak coherently, when the words tumbled out of his dry mouth.

"I... you wanted to see me and..." he began just to be bluntly interrupted.

"There is something you wanted to tell me," the scarlet-clad man offered instead.

_He knew. _Julian was more than sure that he knew about the strangers. About Jadzia and... He didn't dare finish the thought. How could he have been so naïve? How could he have ever thought that he would never find out about the incident? The fear slowly pushing him to the verge of panic was overwhelming. He didn't want to go through it again. Not this time. Not if he had any chance to avoid it.

"I didn't know them," he sputtered out, "they came into the infirmary one morning, but I swear, I didn't know them. I've never seen them..."

The next slap caught him by surprise, sending a sharp pain through his jaw.

"Don't you dare lie to me, Julian!" the other man shouted.

He felt desperate tears filling his eyes, though he tried best to force them back. He _wasn't_ lying. But he couldn't argue about it either. If he tried to defend himself, he knew he would just make things worse.

"No, Sir. Forgive me, Sir," Julian pleaded instead, feeling the crushing weight of the other man's look, wishing that he had never, ever met those strangers.

Without any further word, the scarlet-clad man turned his back at the trembling young man and stiffly walked back to the far side of the room. When he made his way back, his hands held a shiny, golden goblet. Even though he didn't give the slightest indication, Julian reached out, taking hold of the heavy vessel.

"You know, what you have to do, don't you? I'm very disappointed about you, Julian. Restore my faith!"

With unsteady hands, Julian lifted the golden goblet to his lips. His face had lost every bit of colour when he desperately closed his eyes, taking a short sip – and subsequently felt the urge to throw up. But he fought the feeling down. He would do it. He would drink the whole amount and he would force his stomach to keep it... He wouldn't throw up any more as he had done so many times in the beginning. With the warm and viscous liquid running down his throat, he almost felt his legs give way. Having drained it, he involuntarily hit his good hand in front of his mouth, letting the goblet drop to the ground. He put forth all his strength to will the liquid down, while a small red trickle was losing itself as it oozed from the tipped vessel.

"Bad, Julian, very bad. You should show more discipline," the older man said disdainfully, slapping him with a strength that tossed the inadvertent young man to the ground. But before Julian could react, he was forced upwards again, dragged back by the scarlet-clad man who held his good arm in a tightly painful grip, and walked him over to the racks and metal cases that were lining one side of the small room. Not offering any resistance, Julian let himself be conducted in front of one of the metal cabinets.

Without any forewarning, the older man grabbed the elbow of Bashir's broken arm and hit it square on the edge of the metal rack. Julian involuntarily cried out when his already wounded arm forcefully hit the strut. The second time, he was nearly about to throw up.

"I heard you tried to heal this arm, Julian?"

Panting heavily in surprise and dismay, he shook his head, not able to bring forth a single word. _If it would just stop..._ The creeping, stabbing pain flaring up his elbow and shoulder, was sending cold shivers through his already weak body. _It just has to stop_...

"Give me an answer!"

The next blow was too much for him. Yelling out with profound pain, Julian lost every strength left, falling in a heap on the floor. Sobbing silently, he futilely triednot tolet himself go in front of _his _eyes, cradling his broken arm with his good hand. His whole body was shaking with shock, and he desperately wished himself far, far away. Instead, a warm hand gently touched his shoulder, slowly dragging at him to stand up again. He did what he was told. Not facing the other man any more, he stood again, incessantly whispering how much he was sorry and that he would never do it again – though he didn't even know what it was he wouldn't do again.

A soft touch on his chin forced his gaze back at the elder man.

"I see, you learned your lesson well, Julian. But be warned: If you disobey my wishes again the punishment will be much more severe... For today though, we're finished. You may leave."

He didn't know what wishes the other man was talking about. He didn't know what he had done wrong concerning the strangers at all. But one thing he knew for sure: He would never ever go near them again. Never, ever. Julian had disappointed _him_, he had deserved punishment. And he had counteracted his orders by healing his broken arm. It didn't matter that it had been Jadzia who had tended his arm, he had disobeyed. He knew he would do anything to never disobey _his_ orders again.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I..." he started when the other one lay one finger across Julian's lips.

"For today it's enough, Julian. You may go now."

Not daring to speak up again, Julian slowly turned, not sure, if his unsteady knees would carry him out of the room. When he heard the doors shut behind him, though, he instantly grabbed for the wall to support himself against the overwhelming weakness that was almost sending him down to the ground.

* * *

Running down the narrow corridor, Sisko threw back a quick glance every now and then, making sure that O'Brien, Dax and John could still keep track. Ignoring the questioning gaze of some passers-by, he absently tried to recall the complex's internal structure, taking directions that would finally lead them to their point of designation. He wasn't sure they would be able to catch up to him on the lower floors for he was fairly ahead of them. So they would try it on the ground floor, perhaps even the infirmary's direction. 

"Captain, what are you going to do?" a distant voice called from behind.

Not slowing his pace, he was almost about to ignore it – but then he turned. Facing the angry young man, Sisko knew pretty well he didn't have much time to waste on futile arguments.

"What I should have done more than a week ago", the captain firmly said, struggling to fight against the inner rage trying to make its way to the surface.

He had seen it. He had seen all of it from the small vent John had led them to.

At first, Sisko hadn't been too convinced when John had finally offered to show them Julian's secret. He hadn't been sure if John would keep his promise... It had been almost a week since he had last seen the young engineer. And Bashir. But then John's call had come, unexpected and very sudden – and it surely hadn't prepared Sisko for what had followed.

His decision was resolute, they were going to leave this place immediately – with Dr. Bashir, no matter John's vigorous protests. After they brought him out to the town of Velurin, they would finally contact Ensign Perris. And if the Orinoco was not in range for contact they could still stay in the town, or hide somewhere if necessary.

"You remember your promise? Why do you think I showed you?" John shouted, shaking with barely subdued anger. "You don't even know the risk it was and is for me to bring you there. Do you think hiding in vents, eavesdropping or spying into secrets are legal measures to obtain information – even on Felan III? If anybody finds out, I'll loose my technical license – say nothing of what Telac will do to me! You saw what happened to Julian! I didn't show you just so you could race down the whole place with that maniacal, utopian and absolutely _not _realizable plan of yours in the back of your mind."

"I won't leave him here any second longer – and after all you have shown me, you should be the first to understand the reasons," Sisko returned, trying to keep his composure.

"You obviously didn't _listen_! I don't _want_ you to leave Julian here, I only said there is _no way_ of getting him out!"

Turning on his heels, Sisko shook his head. He _had_ listened – but John's statement was not acceptable. For the time being, he had to bring them out of here, all together. They would be able to resume this particular argument on the Defiant, when there would be enough time.

Breaking again into a run, he didn't make it far, though, when he finally found the man he was looking for.

"Julian, wait!" Sisko tried, slithering to halt a few meters in front of the young man, who had looked up perplexedly upon hearing his name.

Bashir was only slowly realizing what was going on around him, stopping and turning around in some sort of involuntary reflex to see who was calling him back. His blank and exhausted expression lingered only a split second, long enough for his still dazed mind to catch up. And then his eyes dilated, Julian staring at Sisko – and the other three persons who were just about to arrive beside him – in bare confusion, his mouth twisted with bewilderment and – pain, Sisko finally realized.

With his shoulders hunched and his broken arm cradled with his good one, Bashir was a miserable sight; the anguish and hurt so profound in his dark eyes. It was this very moment, this very confrontation, which made Sisko awkwardly realize that he had been wrong all the time. Assuming that Julian hadn't been in any immediate danger before, had been wrong. He could see it now. And he had seen it in that other room.

Julian had been broken.

How could he have _not_ seen it before? How could he have assumed that everything was all right? Perhaps it had been him. He had _wanted _to get his CMO back, he had thought that he could just neglect the previous three months. But after what he had seen, the cruelty he had witnessed only minutes ago – and it had apparently not been the first time – He couldn't even imagine what Julian had already gone through in those past three months...

Seeing Bashir in that pitiful condition was a shock. Not only to him but also to Dax and O'Brien. He had seen it in their faces, the expression ofopen horror. They all had known Bashir; had known his eagerness, his passion for justice, his unyielding attitude, so very different from what they had witnessed from behind the grid in that tiny vent. Having to see him so submissive and frightened, so totally lost to the other man's power, had been like a merciless blow.

He prayed that Julian was not beyond redemption – but looking into those dark, tantalized eyes, he wasn't sure of that any more.

"Julian..." he started again, gently reaching out for the young man, when his arm was bat away by Bashir's violent blow.

"Don't touch me!" he yelled, his eyes wide with fear, as he stumbled ever backwards, not taking his gaze off them, captured by a horror, Sisko could only guess where it came from. And then Bashir suddenly turned and abruptly broke into a run.

"Julian!"

Facing Dax and O'Brien, the captain hurriedly said: "Just get out of here, we can't risk wasting more time. We'll meet at the landing coordinates. I'll fetch Julian."

"Do you think you'll be able to handle him alone?" Dax uncertainly asked.

"Leave it to me, Old Man," Sisko replied frowning, "just see to getting out of here as soon as possible. That man evidently knew about our encounter with Dr. Bashir. I'm sure he already knows about our true nature as well. And given the way he treated Julian – well, we still don't know how Bashir got stuck on this planet and I don't intend to find out by casting in our lot with him."

When Jadzia nodded shortly, Sisko gave them all a last worried glance, finally turned and set off behind the young man who had already vanished out of sight.

"You heard him, Chief. There's nothing more for us to do here."

* * *

He ran as fast as he could, his legs still unsteady and weak, though somehow he managed to gather up his last strength. 

It was a nightmare. A never-ending nightmare.

And he could just run. Run away from it all. If he was fast enough he could make it. He felt so queasy, so sick with fear that he didn't even bother the tears, involuntarily starting to fill his eyes. If he was just safe. If he just made it to security. Banishing out every other thought, he kept running, arbitrarily taking directions, never casting a swift look over his shoulder, for he knew he needed every second he could get.

The lights flew by as he ran through the hallways, passing various people, mainly staff of the authority complex but also tourists and children. He didn't care about their questioning looks as he tried to make his way through them. If he could just get out. If he just made it outside.

And suddenly he fell forward, his legs held back by an obstacle he couldn't realize in time, hitting the ground with his shoulder and crying out at the immediate pain that flared up his chest, while a tray's dishes were flung and scattered across the floor. He tried to roll over, stemming his body up again, barely aware of the curious looks he was given by a growing group of passers-by who had stopped to see what all the furore was about. Someone offered his hand to help Julian to his feet. When he managed to stand, he realized that he had just crossed the way of a young woman serving lunch. She was in quite a shock, after seeing him trip over her tray at full speed.

"You're ok?" she asked in a friendly manner, still holding his shaky hand in hers.

Not hesitating any second longer as necessary, Julian mumbled a short "Thanks", before turning on his heels and breaking again into a run.

He didn't care about her perplexed look. He didn't care about any passer-by.

And finally he made it. Crashing against the glass door and wildly pushing it open, he tumbled out of the building, gasping for breath and struggling to keep his balance.

It was a warm and nice summer day, the sun still high, shining with all her strength. He felt a soft breeze against his cheek, vaguely took in the fresh smell of wood and nature that hung in the air. Spotting a small forest a few hundred meters away, he slowed his speed. He wouldn't find him there. None of the strangers would find him there. They would probably search for him in Velurin, or in the administrative authority's main complex, but not in the forest. Julian had been there before, he knew where to hide.

When he entered the shadowy ground and found his way through the trees, it was the first time that he finally took a deep breath, trying to calm his heartbeat as best he could. Closing his eyes, he tried to fight back the sickness. He felt so tired. So utterly tired and exhausted. He didn't want to go back. He didn't want to meet the strangers again. If they just let him alone...

"Julian!"

He almost choked when he heard the name. It took only a split second for his dazed mind to catch up

"Please, don't run away. We're here to help you!" the other man said – Mr. Sisko he recalled, though that name just made Julian's sickness worse.

"Keep away from me!" he yelled, backing away, deeper into the forest.

"Julian, I won't hurt you. I want to help you. I know what that man did to you and I promise I won't let you be hurt again. Please, just listen to me."

He didn't. Spinning around, he broke again into a run, though he didn't make it far. Strong arms were dragging at his shoulders, pulling him back, and another second later they were both rolling on the ground, Julian fighting desperately, flailing out as hard as he could, hitting Sisko's jaw and making him curse with pain and anger.

"Julian! Stop it! Please!"

Another second, and he had managed to roll to one side, kicking at Sisko with both feet, forcing the captain to release his grip around Bashir's upper arms. Julian dragged himself up, stumbling away from Sisko, the overwhelming panic lending him strength he shouldn't have had after what had happened…

"Keep... away from me!" the young man yelled again, his face distorted with emotions he wasn't able to hold back any longer, ever stumbling and running away from Sisko.

Setting off behind him, Sisko didn't take his eyes of Bashir – and with a choked cry the young man was suddenly gone.

Slithering to a halt the captain managed to stop in time, not making the same mistake that Bashir just did: The sharp descent was short and not too steep but it had obviously caught the doctor by surprise. Sisko could only see a dark figure some few meters down the slope, sunken down and not moving.

Carefully making his way down and trying not to slip on the muddy ground, Sisko finally arrived next to the young man, kneeling down beside him and feeling his pulse. He let out an inner sigh of relief when he found Julian still breathing, though the young man had obviously lost consciousness. He couldn't blame him. After what had happened, it had been amazing that he had made it this far at all…

Sisko wasn't sure if he could bring him up the slope again, though. He didn't even dare think of the possibility that Bashir might wake up again, making everything worse with his vehement resistance.

Thinking of contacting Dax and O'Brien, he was reaching for the combadge, when a sudden sound from above caught his attention. Looking up, he froze.

"Well, well, if it isn't our dear captain. I hope you don't intend to leave so soon."

Scowling at the other man – and the four guards surrounding him, pointing their phaser rifles at Sisko – a bad misgiving already told him that they were trapped.

"Actually I do."

"Well, honestly, you won't go anywhere, Captain. You're my guests. And if you prefer the disenchanted truth of reality: You're my prisoners as well."

* * *

Silence. 

Nothing but silence – and the sound of his own breath.

In. Out. In. Out

Darkness. Something was touching his forehead. A comforting feeling of warmth and security.

He wished to linger longer here, in this endless void. In an emptiness without colors or figures, without light or shadow, without beginning or end. But still he was being dragged back. On and on. He was being dragged back by voices he couldn't understand. They were pulling and lugging at him, dragging him back to the surface of sleep. They were in his mind; soothing words he couldn't make any sense of. So he let himself float. Weightlessly. But still, on and on he was called, into consciousness, away from this place of rest, past a dizzy whirl of feelings, until he finally drew in a deep breath of the other world's air.

It was dark when he woke.

Slowly he tried to turn his head, but still there was nothing but darkness. The same darkness he had grown used to. Comforting darkness.

A vague memory crossed his sleepy mind, bringing his thoughts back to why he was there, to what had happened. Wanting to feel for his broken arm, he lifted his left hand – and touched something soft. Feeling his way over the fine fabric, he realized that it had to be some sort of jacket, laid across his chest. So he wasn't alone, after all…

"John?"

Julian's voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper in the midst of darkness. He didn't know why but if someone had brought him here, it must have been John.

"Julian? You awake?"

He didn't dare move. A warm hand gently touched his shoulder.

"It's me, John. How are you?"

"I... don't know..."

He didn't know where to start. He still felt sick and tired, his right arm numb with pain. Dimly recalling the sudden descent and his fall downwards he thought it amazing that he hadn't broken any further bones. But still – his whole body felt so heavy and exhausted he was barely able to keep his eyes open. Not that there was much to see anyway…

"Where are we?"

A short silence. Then John's voice, breaking through the dimness again.

"That's nothing to worry about right now, Julian. You should go back to sleep and gather some strength."

Julian gave off some vague groan, trying to take his friend's advice. His rest didn't last for long though, when suddenly a crude light filled the room, making him wince and cover his eyes with his good arm.

"Hey, what's that meant to be?" an angry voice said, apparently bearing an Irish accent. For a split second Julian felt as if it was familiar, but that impression vanished as quickly as darkness had.

"Recovery time has ended, I suppose."

Once more opening his eyes, he saw them. The strangers he had first met almost two weeks ago in the infirmary. The strangers he wanted so desperately to avoid. Feeling his stomach lurch at their sight, he tried best to fight his uneasiness back.

"How are you, Julian?"

It was Jadzia, bending over him and feeling his pulse. When she met his gaze she offered a gentle, soothing smile.

"Better..." was everything he brought forth. He wasn't in any condition to run away right now. So there wasn't any choice left. He was trapped. But somehow he didn't ponder over that fact too much.

Not taking her worrying eyes off him she finally nodded. "You're already on the mend. In a short time you'll be completely back to normal."

He was still tired. Too tired to care much about anything. He just wished he could slide back into that great oblivion and forget about everything around...

"What will they do with us? Ensign Perris will know that something has happened if we don't contact him at the time stipulated."

"At least I hope so, Chief. We're running short of alternatives."

"Starfleet will send a rescue team, I'm sure. At least, once Kira gets Perris' call."

"How long do you think that will be?"

Julian could sense Jadzia's worry.

"I don't know. But we should keep in mind that we might be on our own for some time."

Trying to catch a further brief glimpses of their faces, Julian shifted, deciding then to try and sit up. He didn't even make it halfway up, when his vision was drowned in darkness and he would have fallen back if John hadn't caught him in time, helping him to sit up completely.

It took some time for his vision to clear but then he saw them.

"Julian, you really can't remember anything?"

Facing the Irishman, Julian frowned. Something deep within himself was protesting, making him feel trapped and vulnerable. He couldn't place that feeling but he knew one thing for sure. He wanted to leave those people behind. He never again wanted to have anything to do with them.

"It's me, Miles."

_Run away. _As far as he could. Everywhere was better than here. He didn't know that man. He didn't know any of them. But still – they made him believe he should. But he didn't. And every nerve of his still weak body was urging him to run. Run away as far as he could...

"I don't think that's a good idea," John interrupted stiffly, but Jadzia suddenly shook her head.

"It has to be, John. There's nothing to lose any more..." And then she turned to face Bashir.

"Julian, do you know what kind of uniform you're wearing? It's from Starfleet, like you, like all of us. It was an accident that made you crash down on this planet three months ago. We've been looking for you all this time."

Julian shook his head in confusion, refusing to listen to a single word that strange woman said. She had once betrayed his trust, he wouldn't trust her again. The panic he felt was overwhelming, torrentially breaking through his mind's numbness. He nearly fell over as he suddenly scrambled to his unsteady feet.

"I don't know you. I don't know any of you! And I'm not Starfleet!"

With a cracking voice, he desperately tried to convince them. Convince himself. And then Sisko stood up, straightening his uniform before he slowly came nearer, nearer, nearer. Julian stumbled backwards, hitting the wall as he couldn't take away his gaze from the other man. Feeling the firm stone in his back, Julian froze, his eyes growing ever larger, the nearer Sisko came.

"Captain! Stop it! You don't know what you're doing!"

John was already about to jump up when Dax grabbed his arm and pulled him back, while Sisko finally came to a halt – two feet in front of Julian. The young man, though, was pressed against the wall as if he wanted to become a part of it, his eyes sparkling with panic, a bewildered expression on his face as if he was about to die any second now.

"Julian, you can remember me. I know it. The memories might be buried deep within yourself, but they are there. Trust me."

His head pressed against the moist wall, Bashir could do nothing but stare at Sisko, lost for words, his brows furrowed with indescribable horror. And suddenly the young man's gaze dropped to his own hands, his face turning deathly pale.

"…no," he managed. "NO!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

He didn't know why but the man was terrifying him. He was terrifying him almost to death as he was coming closer, and closer.

"Julian, you can remember me. I know it. The memories might be buried deep within yourself, but they are there. Trust me."

No, he couldn't remember. He couldn't remember any of them. And he couldn't trust them. _Escape._ He had to run. Run away. The air was so crushing he would suffocate if he didn't. He couldn't breathe. His lungs still moved but he just couldn't breathe. The walls came tumbling ever closer, though the man in the center remained steady. He wasn't to come any closer. _No, god, don't let him get any closer._ Sisko's hand was reaching forward – but Julian knew that it would be his end if the hand ever touched him.

And then he saw it. Saw it clearly through the haze of desperate tears. Blood was running down the man's chest. Red, crimson blood, soaking his uniform, trickling down to the floor, pooling in small puddles to his feet. Sisko's mouth was open, his eyes as wide as they would get, staring at him. And Julian couldn't take his eyes off the ghastly sight. He just couldn't. _Make it stop. Make it stop._ The man's glassy stare was penetrating, making Julian feel sick and nauseated. Shaking his head he tried to run. Run away. But his whole body was paralyzed with fear and horror. _No, it can't be...can't ... can't..._

He wasn't able to endure those dying eyes any longer. Nor the blood. Flooding the ground it didn't stop. So much blood. No human body could loose so much blood... Instinctively he looked down at his own hands. The same blood, covering his hands, soaking his sleeves and dropping to the ground.

"no..." he whispered, driven to within an inch of his sanity. "NO!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Startled by Bashir's sudden cry, Sisko didn't offer any resistance when he was abruptly dragged back by a strong grip.

"Dammit! Leave him alone!"

Looking into the angry face of John, Sisko was pulled back into reality. The blond engineer had stepped between Julian and Sisko and was now scowling at the captain, protecting Bashir from view. Sisko wasn't at all sure if Julian was the only one who wasn't sane in that very moment. Without another word John spun around, grabbing Julian's shoulders.

"Julian, look at me!" Trying to break the young man's horror, John shook him by his shoulders.

"Julian, it's not real, it's _not real_! Look at me! Please!"

It was not until John took his face with both hands, turning Julian's gaze to his attention. However, Bashir's gaze looked broken. He didn't seem to take anything in any more, his mind captured by a horror only he was able to see.

"Julian, none of that is real, believe me. You're safe. I'm your friend and I won't let you down."

Sisko thought he saw a short nod, a sign enough for John before he abruptly spun around and scowled at Sisko and the others. "I warned you not to interfere. You cast my warning in the wind. You saw what harm you can do. I won't let you make him suffer any longer. And I mean that. Don't you dare ever touch him again."

The last words were more than just a warning. Sisko knew that the young man was serious about it. Very serious. With a short nod, Sisko turned round and – walking over to Dax and O'Brien – eased himself to the ground again.

"What do you think of it, Old Man?" Sisko could see their worried faces. O'Brien's brows were deeply furrowed, Dax only shook her head.

"He's traumatized. Either by the shuttle crash or by the torture. It's probably the reason why he can't recall his past life or any of us. I'm not sure, but something has refreshed that trauma", the young Trill said matter-of-factly.

"You mean, _we_ are the reason?", O'Brien tried.

The young Trill sighed sadly. "I'm not sure about that. I don't know what made Julian relive the traumatic experience but he needs medical and psychological help – as fast as possible."

O'Brien didn't like the thought. He carefully threw a look back over his shoulder, spotting his best friend, huddled up and motionless in the far corner of the room, John next to him, talking quietly. O'Brien wanted to go over, try and talk to him – to _help_ him –, but he bitterly realized that he would just make things worse.

"So what can we do?"

Jadzia shook her head again, her expression sad with a hint of resignation. "Nothing, Chief. Not here anyway. I don't think Julian is aware of what had caused his trauma, nor what had brought it back to his mind. We just can't risk hurting him even more." And directing her attention to Sisko she added: "John's right, Benjamin. We should leave him alone until we're saved. Julian seems to have lived here over three months without us. He started to be in that bad condition right after our appearance here. As long as we don't know what affected him so thoroughly, we should do nothing at all. That's the safest way."

Sisko nodded. Even though he didn't like the idea and he wanted to help Bashir, he had to admit that Dax was right. They could do nothing without furthering Julian's trauma. But still – he didn't like the idea at all.

* * *

She didn't look at him, her long blonde hair lightly welling over her bare shoulders. The white chemise was clean, no longer dirty and torn. Her expression was so full of sadness, though he couldn't tell if that sadness was meant for herself or him. He didn't even try to talk to her for he knew she wouldn't answer. She never had. 

Julian turned his head, no longer able to endure her sight. He sat there, pulled back and huddled into the corner, his back touching the stony, rough wall behind. He still felt the shock. How could he know that it hadn't been real? How could he know if the cell was real? He couldn't. He just felt that surge of uneasiness, that feeling of slowly growing panic, overwhelming and strong. Julian couldn't understand his feelings any longer. He was a stranger to himself. The only thing that made him sit still in that very place was his paralyzed body, and it was stronger than his panic stricken mind. He wanted to cry out, to let some of the despair go, but he just couldn't.

Sleep. Unconsciousness. Anything was better than his present condition.

When the lights suddenly flickered and the silent hiss of a door made it through to his mind, he didn't even look up. Feeling a strong grip around both of his arms, he was rudely pulled upwards. He didn't oppose. No matter where they brought him. They would hurt him, he was sure of that, but he wasn't sure if that pain could be any worse than what was already clamoring in his mind.

Being pushed in front of the door, his look dropped to the young blonde girl. She apparently had noticed, lifting her head and watching him out of silent eyes. When their eyes met, he felt the surge of sadness springing from those dark blue eyes.

And he realized that the sadness was meant for him.

* * *

They had spent most of the time without talking for no one wanted to break the unpleasant, depressing silence. O'Brien sat with his back to the wall, both legs stretched out in front of him, every now and then casting a swift glance toward Julian. 

He was worried. No matter what had happened to the young man, he needed help, the sooner the better. Facing the fact that they themselves weren't able to offer that help to Julian and – what was even worse – that they could just further his trauma, made him realize how much they were at the mercy of their captors.

He couldn't think of a reason, though. What were their captors up to? Torture them like they did to Julian; for whatever wicked reason it was that drove them? Kill O'Brien and the others immediately? He didn't know which alternative was better, and besides, what about Julian?

The young doctor still sat motionless in one of the corners of the cell, staring to the ground in front of him. When he suddenly turned his head, O'Brien tried to make out the reason for the sudden movement, but when he followed Julian's gaze, there was nothing but another empty corner of the cell. Anxiously he prayed that someone would be able to help Bashir as soon as they made it back to DS9. He wanted his friend back.

When the lights abruptly flickered and the hiss of the door penetrated the silence, O'Brien instinctively lifted his head. All of them – except Bashir – stared at the newcomers, though they barely seemed to notice. Two of the black-clad men neared Julian, roughly pulling him up and starting to leave the cell.

"What's going on here? What do you want from Dr. Bashir?"

Stepping between the door and the two guards, Sisko didn't let them pass.

"That's no business of yours, Captain," was all the taller of the two men answered.

"It is. Dr. Bashir is one of my crewmen," Sisko tried, in a pressed tone.

"You'll wait till it's your turn." The guard then pointed at O'Brien. "You'll come with us."

O'Brien hesitated but after catching a short subtle nod from Sisko, he slowly drew himself up. Better not resist as long as there was no immediate danger. Opposing now would have no effect.

Following the guard's nod, O'Brien stepped through the door, followed by the two men, carrying Bashir in the middle.

When the door finally shut close behind their back, Sisko couldn't help slamming one fist onto the ground.

"Damn!"

Their only hope lay now with Perris. If his message had made it through to DS9 they might still have a chance...

* * *

The floors were narrow and moist, with water sporadically running down from the ceiling, the air damp and stale. He didn't know how long they had been walking along that dim-lit hallway; it made his uneasiness grow with every step he made into the unknown territory that lay ahead. 

O'Brien tried to cast a short glance over his shoulder, though there was no one following them. He wondered where Julian was. He hadn't seen him again after the guards had picked both of them up and shoved them out of the cell. He could just hope that his friend was alright. _Well, according to circumstances._

However, Julian was not the only one he was worried about right now.

O'Brien didn't know what to expect. He didn't want to cast in his lot with Bashir, though he knew very well that he was more than likely to. But on the other side, no one had bothered so far to explain to them why they were held in custody. O'Brien could only guess that their search for Bashir had not remained undetected. Besides, he had heard that conversation between Julian and the other man, how he had threatened the young doctor not to get involved with them again, how he had _punished_ Julian for things he hadn't even had any influence on. O'Brien couldn't even imagine what the other man's threat had actually meant – but he preferred not to find out. Being arrested without warning or accusation boded ill. No matter what lay ahead, O'Brien already knew that this time, they were in serious trouble…

His meandering thoughts were finally interrupted when they came to a halt.

The new room he was let in was big, really big taking into consideration that it was subterranean. It had to be, for there was no single window, just a few small vents like those from where they had watched Julian and... O'Brien pushed that thought aside, concentrating on what lay in front of him.

It was amazing. He had to admit.

The room he was standing in now was so contrary to what he had seen previously. The narrow, moist corridors he had been lead through. It all had looked pretty much like an old, damp cellar. O'Brien had even wondered what use it could be of to have such systems of tunnels beneath the authority complex but now he realized.

A lab.

He was standing in the middle of a huge, high-tech lab. The many blinking consoles and technical devices so different from what he had seen on the surface. It was not that O'Brien had thought the Felan didn't depose of high technology comparable to that of Starfleet or other races able to travel space. But somehow it just hadn't occurred to him that Felan III could possibly depose of more technology than just a few devices for every day life. Adding the fact that the Felan were so detached from spacetravelling worlds, that there was no need for great technology anyway.

"Ah, Chief O'Brien, am I right?"

The chief was startled. He had been so absorbed in his own thoughts that he hadn't realized there was anybody else in the room; who was now coming towards him.

"What is this place?" he asked hesitantly. He could hardly imagine that they were still somewhere down under the surface of Velurin or the authority's main complex. So perhaps the whole subterranean system was situated somewhere outside the city like...

And suddenly it struck him. All at once, everything made sense.

"The metal bin..." he whispered under his breath, suddenly realizing what he should have more than a week ago. Now it was obvious. Whatever use this lab had, somebody didn't want anyone to find it out. Situated far below the surface it didn't attract too much attention – apart from various emissions that could still be perceived through the thick layer of earth. The metal bin he had stumbled upon earlier must have been some sort of shield emitter, protecting the whole subterranean area from showing up on sensor readings…

"Chief, I'm glad to see you appreciate my work."

"And you are…?" O'Brien replied, trying to keep his temper low, when his attention was pulled back to the conversation. He knew the man. How could he possibly forget the face of the man who had tortured Julian.

"Telac," the other man offered, his smile broadening, making O'Brien's uneasiness grow. _Like a rabbit in front of a snake…_He tried to push that thought away. _Concentrate on how to get out…_

"I won't make you wait, Chief. To cut a long story short: I need your help."

O'Brien's brow furrowed. "For what?"

Turning his back to the Irishman, Telac quietly walked across the room, beckoning O'Brien to follow.

"Well, to be frank, I need your help on my latest work." Tapping a few buttons on the black console in front of him, Telac made a technical scheme appear on the monitor in front of them, though the chief didn't even need to take a closer look on the distinct system configuration hovering on the screen to know what the other man was showing him.

"A bomb?" O'Brien disdainfully suspected, then his expression became serious. "What is it meant for? You don't intend to start a war with your own people – or anybody else?"

Telac shook his head, ever smiling. "I don't intend to start a war, Chief. I'm going to end one. I'm going to destroy the wormhole to the alpha-quadrant."

O'Brien nearly choked on Telac's last statement. "You can't be serious. And you can't expect me to help you!" He wasn't sure if the other man knew what he was talking about. But obviously he didn't. O'Brien had expected many things, but certainly not this.

The smile on the other man's face suddenly fell, leaving behind a calculating, cruel look that made a cold shiver run down the chief's spine.

"How amazing. Julian had said just the same. Nevertheless you will help me, I promise…"


	5. Chapter 4

**"Hidden Memories" - Chapter 4**

Nervously, he paced to and fro, sporadically casting a swift glance toward the dark iron door. He was too busy with his own thoughts to care much about the unpleasant cold, the stale air and the stifling frowzy scent that made every breath an exhausting effort.

It was ridiculous. Absurd at best.

Telac had told him about his plan to destroy the celestial temple and also that he needed Bashir's help to do so. But why him? Telac knew that he couldn't possibly expect to destroy the wormhole with a single bomb. He had worked long on the construction of his layer destruction bomb. And being true to himself, Julian had to acknowledge that Telac had done a good job. Apart from the fact that his action's aim was utterly absurd.

Telac had tried to tell him. He had tried to convince Julian by rational means, though no one who still had his mind in the right place would have ever let himself in for such a plan.

Julian had already made up his mind. If there was anything he felt obliged to, it was the fact that he had to stop this maniac. But how was he expected to prevent Telac from finishing his bomb? From irrevocably determining the Alpha Quadrant's as well as the Gamma Quadrant's future? There was no one who knew his whereabouts, that he had crashed down on that far away planet, and he seriously doubted that anyone would come for his rescue in the foreseeable future. No, he wouldn't get any help from Starfleet so he was on his own.

He still was thinking about a possible solution, when he suddenly heard a scratching, unpleasant sound and involuntarily spun around. Dazzled by the sudden light, he winced, lifting an arm across his eyes that had been in the dark too long to adjust quickly enough.

He wasn't at all sure what was happening. They probably brought him food; his stomach hadn't had anything, ever since the shuttle crash two days ago. In fact, he hadn't had much contact with his captors at all. He couldn't even remember what had happened after the crash. The last thing he could dimly recall was the planet's surface coming ever closer as he was frantically trying to regain control of his shuttle. And then everything went black. He had woken in the exact cell he was now standing in, frightened and confused for he hadn't known where he was, nor why he had been brought there. The first time he had actually _seen_ somebody had been a few hours ago.

However, no matter how much he was longing for food, he pushed that desire away, concentrating on what was happening right now.

"Telac wants to talk to you."

Two men entered the dark cell, casting long square shadows on the floor where the unnatural light from the corridor spilled in. He couldn't see them, though he was sure he knew their voices. One of them had escorted him the first time he had been led out of darkness…

"What does he want now?" Bashir retorted nonchalantly, trying not to let his anxiety show.

He didn't get any response.

The two tall men just grabbed his upper arms, dragging him out of the cell and walked him through an endless number of narrow hallways. In front of a thick iron door, they came to a halt.

"He's waiting in there. If you please."

Slightly unsure, Julian turned around to face the men before reluctantly opening the thick iron door before him. The room beyond was dimly-lit and having entered completely, he heard the door shut behind him with a low thud. Cautiously casting a look around, he felt his heartbeat quicken, and realized that his misgiving had proven to be true. He had already been expecting it. Heavy iron brackets were attached to one wall, the only furniture, apart from some racks, a sparse metal table in the middle of the room, its body straps clearly indicating its use...

Julian felt his stomach turn, though he tried to clamp down on his nervousness the best he could. He had been in much worse situations after all...

"Ah, my dear Dr. Bashir. Nice to see you again!"

Startled by the unexpected closeness of the voice, the young man spun to his left. Telac was standing a few feet away, hands clasped behind his back, and offering a broad smile on a perfectly shaped face. Too perfectly.

"What do you want from me, Telac? I won't help you with your plan. I already told you that."

The older man shook his head. "I know... I know. But perhaps you've changed your mind by now?"

Julian knew very well that his words were meant as a threat.

"Forget it, Telac. I will not help you blow up the wormhole, no matter how much you want me to agree with your aims."

"Oh doctor, please, I thought we already had that discussion. You see, I need you. I can't accept 'no' as an answer. I brought you here. You're an essential part of my plan, so you would do us both a good turn if you didn't make it so difficult."

Bashir hardly breathed. "You know that it's maniacal and ridiculous! You don't expect me to deny that by giving in, do you?"

"Its people like you who don't understand. People from across that passage; filthy, barbarous people trying to hog as much as they can," the older man suddenly spat out. "You're no better. The only thing I want to do is restore peace. And you would agree if you had enough common sense."

When Bashir didn't answer, Telac's smile suddenly reappeared, widening with every second he watched the young Starfleet lieutenant. "Please, believe me, doctor, you'll change your mind."

Feeling a firm grip around both of his upper arms, Julian'sheart skipped a beat. For a short second, he thought of overwhelming the guards and attacking Telac. It took only that long for him to play it all through in his mind. But the truth was, he was outnumbered. He didn't stand a ghost of a chance of overcoming them. Even if he offered resistance now, he wouldn't make it far. He would probably just make things worse...

"I'm Starfleet. Consider that. They'll send a rescue team."

The elder man grinned, revealing small white teeth. "Well, just start to count the days until then, Julian, but keep in mind that you might keep me company longer than you can imagine now."

Julian didn't know what Telac was speaking of and he didn't have any time to keep dwelling on it; he suddenly felt himself being pushed against the moist stone wall behind, the heavy iron brackets snapping in tightly around his wrists. Trying to concentrate he pushed back his fear. No matter what Telac did to him, he wouldn't help him in his plans. He would never ever agree to his warped scheme.

He had always known that one day it would happen. He had been trained during his career, he had been trained to psychologically and physically withstand torture, but still he just couldn't shut out the fear. Telac was unpredictable. He knew that ever since the very first time he had met him. Julian prayed to every god he could think of, that Starfleet would notice his disappearance soon. _And find me... _If the distress signal had made it through the interferences of the planet's stratosphere, DS9 would know that he hadn't come down voluntarily to Felan III.

Julian just couldn't imagine that a world like Felan III would fire upon a Starfleet shuttle. They must have known that it was Starfleet. He had even tried to send a distress signal to the central authority of Felan III as well, when the interplanetary defense system had inadvertently opened fire on him while he was passing the planet's gravitation belt. At least he had thought so. After his encounter with Telac, though, he was all but sure that the attack had been made by mistake. So, strictly speaking, he had been kidnapped. And now he was trapped. Trapped by an apparently insane scientist wanting to abuse him for his maniacal plans...

He just prayed they would find him soon. It was the only thing he could think of now. So long as he would hold out.

Bracing himself against what might come, his mouth slightly twisted with apprehension. Julian watched Telac step in front of him, saw that evil, sadistic smile on his too perfectly shaped face, his dark eyes sparkling with a joy that Julian couldn't help but loathe – and all at once, without forewarning, his world was gone, leaving behind nothing but an all-surrounding, stabbing, blinding darkness; so merciless that it came as a violent blow, taking all his breath at once.

* * *

The first thing, slowly seeping into his consciousness again, were his own cries, echoing and reverberating from the dark walls around.

Julian had yelled until his scratchy voice had cracked – though the pain hadn't ceased to linger. He had been completely at Telac's mercy. Every muscle, every fiber of his body had felt on fire, driving him to the edge of consciousness. But still, the pain hadn't ceased. Julian couldn't imagine a pain akin to it. Never before had he felt so vulnerable. Never before had he felt so naked and unprotected, so utterly defenseless. Screaming, he had tried to free himself, tearing desperately at the iron brackets, making them cut into his wrists even deeper.

His body had collapsed even before his mind had, his legs giving way and leaving his trembling body's weight hanging on the straps around his wrists. With his chest still on fire, Julian desperately tried to repress the urge to vomit, his stomach a mess of squeamishness. Choking and gasping for air, he forced his mind further toward consciousness.

"Julian, my boy, I thought you were a bit tougher..."

Bashir was too exhausted to react to Telac's disrespect. Still shaking with pain – and rage, he realized –, he desperately wished for Telac to ask him again; ask him to help, so that Julian could repulse his offer again, showing him that no physical pain would make him betray his beliefs.

But the question never came.

Instead a sudden slap across his face made his head fly violently to the side.

"I expect more discipline, Julian."

Bashir grit his teeth, though his body was too weak to bring forth a single word.

"You can believe me, Julian, after a few days I'll have you crawling on the floor, begging for forgiveness."

He didn't even have the time to catch his breath and brace himself against what was to come. The fire shot up again, making him lose his newly found strength all at once. Julian cried out until his voice was gone and finally – after what seemed like an unendurable and cruel eternity – the black veil of unconsciousness enclosed around his agonizing mind.

* * *

It was dark when he woke, the only light cast in by the dull electrical lighting filtering through a small vent on the ceiling. The ground again, was cold and moist, though some indefinite feeling told him that this room was different from the previous one. He couldn't bring up enough strength to complete his assumption, however, so he settled on the simple fact that he had been transferred while unconscious.

He didn't know what time it was or how much time had already passed since his painful encounter with Telac. Cautiously he tried to move, wincing at the fresh pain that flared up his chest when he made the smallest motion. Groaning silently he gasped for air.

He was lying turned over on his belly, his right arm numbly buried somewhere under his body, his face pressed against the damp ground. He was cold – but he could do absolutely nothing about it. Even trying to think was an effort he was barely able to make, his mind a dizzy whirl of chaos.

He was in shock, that much he knew. In shock due to the torture, due to what they had done to him…

But the awareness brought no relief. Instead his thoughts involuntarily whirled back to what Telac had said, that Julian would spend more time in his company than he imagined. He felt his stomach turn at the thought.

Bashir didn't dare imagine what would happen if Starfleet wasn't able to track him down. Feeling his heart beating faster at the mere thought of it, he tried to calm himself. What if they didn't find him? He had sworn to himself that he would never help Telac's plans, but would he also be able to keep his resoluteness for incalculable time?

_You can believe me, Julian, after a few days I'll have you crawling on the floor, begging for forgiveness._

Thinking back at what Telac had said – what the man had actually _done_ to him – he felt the panic rise within his chest. _A few days?_ He already felt at the tether of his strength, his body sick with never fading pain, his mind telling him that this was one of those _worse_ situations . . .

Banishing every thought out, he closed his eyes. He just longed for rest. He didn't know what Telac had done to him, though he could still feel the pain in every aching muscle. The only thing he wanted to do was sleep – long and deeply – and perhaps never wake up again.

But then something was moving. Somewhere in front of him.

He couldn't see what it was. He just felt it – felt _watched._ Willing himself into reality again, he instinctively raised his head. A wave of squeamishness made him stop, dragging a sudden but feeble groan out of his sore throat, though he gritted his teeth and pushed his chin a little bit higher. It only took him a few seconds to discern the semi-dark figure a few feet away.

A girl, presumably not much older than ten. She sat in one of the corners, facing him with widened eyes, her once-bright white dress dirty and torn and her long blonde hair a muss covering her bare shoulders. She only sat there, saying nothing.

Ignoring the stabbing pain, Julian managed to roll over, repressing the desperate urge to cry out as best he could. Letting his head drop weakly back onto the ground, he took a deep breath before he was finally able to face her again.

"...ello..." he gently tried, his voice sounding croaky and broken.

"I'm... Julian. And... you?"

The girl didn't answer. She just kept watching him with dark, sad eyes. He wasn't at all sure if she was well, her apathetic demeanor worrying him more than his own poor physical condition. She was still a child, after all, suffering much more under the present circumstances than an adult would. If he only had a tricorder...

He let that thought go the very moment it occurred to him. In his present shape, Julian was of no use to anybody. He wasn't even able to help _himself_. There was nothing he could do for her right now, he bitterly realized. But still – at least he could try...

Having something to occupy his mind, he could at least forget about his own miserable shape for the time being. There was someone who needed his help. It was then that the doctor in him took over.

"You don't have... to be afraid. I... won't hurt you."

He thought of making the child answer. He needed to get her into conversation. If he only didn't feel so utterly tired himself... Feeling another surge of squeamishness, he desperately fought back the urge to retch. Although his mind was a bit clearer by now, his body was still in shock.

"What's your... name?"

No response.

"Has Telac brought you here?"

She watched him tiredly, both arms folded around her tightened knees. Her dark eyes never let go of him, though it was the only reaction she ever showed. She wouldn't answer.

Coughing, Julian let out a long breath, realizing that he didn't have enough strength for both of them, no matter how much he wished to help her. Every single word sent a sharp pain through his wounded throat, making him finally close his eyes again, no longer fighting back his body's exhaustion.

Julian didn't know what had happened to the young girl or what she had gone through already, why Telac would lock her in a dark cell some hundred meters down below the surface. He seriously doubted that the girl was a danger to anyone though he also knew that she wasn't there without reason either…

But for the time being he couldn't help her. It hurt his heart not being able to help a patient but he just couldn't. Not in his present condition anyway. Perhaps if he got stronger, if he recovered from whatever Telac had done to him, then he would be able to help her. But not now, when he wasn't even capable of forming more than the simplest train of thoughts himself.

He tried to go back to sleep, to let himself slide into the darkness of unconsciousness where there was no pain, no hopelessness. Feeling his heartbeat quicken at the mere thought that things weren't over by this release, that he would have to go back, that pain would find him again, he fought back his panic. He would make it. He had been in worse situations after all… Calming his breath and wishing to sink back into sleep, he desperately tried to keep his mind from any further thinking.

But sleep just wouldn't come.

* * *

She never spoke to him. Not on the next day, nor on any of the following.

It was during the short hours of wakefulness that he saw her sitting there, huddled up in the dark corner, her vision clear but without any reaction, watching him lie on the cool cell floor as he used this pitiful recess Telac granted him to recapture the slightest shred of strength.

He wasn't even sure how much time had already passed since his involuntary capture but the long hours of darkness – and those loathsome and merciless hours full of half-consciousness and pain – seemed endless to him.

He tried to remain unwavering. The time he spent in Telac's power was hell on earth. He had never imagined that anybody could endure so much pain without losing his or her sanity. It felt as if every single muscle, every single fiber of his body had been dragged out by force, as if he had been burned alive. He had been put on the verge of self-control. More than one time. And he surely would be again.

Julian had lost his voice long since. He had cried so much that there was nothing left of it. No comfort anymore. Not being able to cry out against the paralyzing anguish had only made things worse...

He couldn't fool himself any longer, he was nearing the tether of his strength – and an end of all the torture was not in sight. But still Julian was clutching at a straw. He couldn't give up. Not yet. There was still hope. They would finally find him, he knew for sure. Sisko would find him...

Julian built all his hope on that very wish, every time his mind lost itself in the misty twilight of hopelessness. He had already gone through so much. So many dangers. Someone had to find him.

He just wished to be away. Far, far away. He felt so naked and unprotected, at the mercy of a maniac, wanting to abuse Julian for his own plans. And there was no one to help him. No one to comfort him, telling him that everything was going to be all right. No one to soothe him, no one promising him that he wasn't resisting in vain, that pain would finally find an end, that submitting himself to still more torture was not senseless, that he would be found. That he would be able to go _home_...

He missed home. He missed it so much. Every time he had to face Telac and saw into his evil, sadistic grin, he felt so vulnerable, so defenseless, so … _worthless._

The only thing he wanted right now, was being home. Warmth and security – it almost sounded like foreign words to him, their meaning lost in his murky world of a never-ending nightmare. He just longed for comfort, for consolation. The stale and cool air was so sharp, he never was able to keep his body from shaking. If there was just somebody telling him that he wasn't alone, that he wasn't completely at the mercy of some unpredictable and insane scientist, able to do anything he liked to him without Julian being able to stop him …

And it was in those moments of dark hopelessness that his resolve was yielding, wavering ever so slightly, becoming more and more eroded by doubt and fear, despair and pain.

But still. He mustn't doubt his rescue. They would find him. They _had_ to.

But what if not?

* * *

He had almost given up. He was nearly about to do so.

After a few more encounters with the elder man, Julian's inner resistance was finally worn down to the ground and he just didn't depose of the strength to build it up anew. Not considering the despair.

He didn't want it, though. He didn't want to devote himself to something that he knew – knew with all his heart – was wrong. But he just couldn't go on any more. He was down. There was nothing he could do. He barely felt his body any longer, every breath was a stabbing effort. No matter what he had been taught at the academy, he had tried to oppose.

He really had tried to.

He was even ready to die. He would rather die than help Telac's plans. But he also knew that Telac wouldn't let him. Julian didn't know how but Telac would force him to live on – and that thought even pulled him further down into the overwhelming floods of despair.

_I hate to break it to you, Julian, but neither your captain nor Starfleet will come for your rescue … They've forsaken you … Look at yourself, you're a miserable sight, sobbing and crying when the pressure becomes too much… It's a wonder you were ever admitted to enter your Starfleet…Do you really think anybody bothered about your disappearance?… I'll have you give me the data I need, Julian, I promise … Get him up! …_

Lying furled up on one side, he could feel the moist cold slowly creeping through his uniform. His throat was still sore with the sharp acid that had forced its way up from his stomach. Having been slumped against the stone wall and vomiting, he was conscious enough to somehow will himself into an upright position so he would not choke on his own spew. He couldn't remember what had happened, another piece missing in his already incomplete memory. Right now he just felt the uneven, damp ground beneath, the coolness only furthering his subtle shivering.

He felt so sick, so nauseated … so _humiliated._

Only a few more encounters with Telac and he would break. He knew it. If not his mind, his body would break under the enormous physical pressure. Julian vaguely imagined that if anybody handed him a tricorder right now, he would jump at his own bio readings. Both his blood pressure and his pulse were far below normal, his respiration too uneven and shallow. He didn't know how much more he would be able to endure, though he knew for sure that under the present circumstances he would soon not only lose consciousness, but also his life.

Not opening his eyes, he didn't want to ever wake up again. If he did, reality would just catch up and right now he didn't want to face what would be awaiting him there – to face Telac, his torture, and his poisonous words telling him how worthless and miserable a human being he was. Julian knew that it was just another way of psychological torture – but the words hurt all the same - more profoundly than Telac probably knew. Julian was so utterly ashamed of his own weakness, so ashamed of showing Telac what he wanted to see. Recalling himself collapsing in front of his torturer, not being able to stop _crying_ in front of the elder man, Julian couldn't help feel so utterly ashamed he desperately wished to die in that very place. Telac was right, he didn't _deserve_ being in Starfleet. Not as the miserable human being he was.

Trying desperately to shut everything out, to pull back into the sleep he never had woken from entirely, he also felt that something was different. His self-analysis abruptly ended by the worry about this new sensation. He couldn't place the feeling at first. Trying to concentrate on it, he felt pleasant warmth floating his chest, a feeling so unlikely, so different from the cold always surrounding him. He hadn't noticed at first, too absorbed in his own misery, his mind too far along, lost in some distant void and only slowly coming back to full consciousness. Contrary to his first expectation, it wasn't a bad feeling, it even made him relax...

Reluctantly opening his eyes, the first thing he perceived was the young girl's woozily blonde bush. It took his still sleepy mind some seconds to realize, though, before he carefully lifted his head a few inches.

She must have snuggled up to him while he had been asleep... He couldn't see if she was awake or still sleeping but her breath was even and deep so he decided that she must still be asleep. Her back was leaning against his breast, her arms flung around her own slender body. For a moment he thought she might be cold but then her sleep was too peaceful and quiet.

Perplexed, he couldn't take his eyes off her hair. Carefully and without thinking, he lifted his free arm, gently placing it around her, not sure what had finally made her trust him, though deep within his heart he was glad she had.

Hugging her softly, he let his head drop back to the ground, fighting back the surge of his own sleepiness, too astounded about what had just happened. So perhaps he would be able to help her. She apparently trusted him. She couldn't have known that he wasn't better than her captor, but still she had offered him her confidence. He didn't know what had prompted her sudden action, but being true to himself, it didn't even matter. He just knew one thing for sure: he wouldn't betray her. No, he would protect her. From Telac, from the administrative authority of Felan III and from the rest of the world if necessary.

Some voice deep within himself was urging him to accept the hopelessness, to quit here and now. But he fought it back, concentrating on the only straw that was holding him in life as he affectionately passed one hand over the young girl's inert face.

Feeling her small warm body leaning against his, Julian knew that the world was reserving pain not only for him. He couldn't be sure if the young girl had suffered the same things as he had, he didn't know if anybody had hurt her, or why she was so desperate as to try and trust the only person left in her young life. But one thing about her action was startling him above all: She had made a leap of faith. She had never known him, his pitiful condition must have even startled her, but still – she had made a leap of faith, knowing that she needed someone to comfort her, to give her affection. That it was the last chance for her to persevere.

Hugging her ever so softly, Julian felt the pent-up tears burning in his eyes.

It was in that very moment that he realized that he had almost given up. He had been so near to it, a step away from the groundless abyss stretching out in front of his feet, Telac pushing him forward, ever forward.

But she had dragged him back, farther than he would have been able to do by himself, farther than any hope of being rescued would have been able to. She had shown him, that life wasn't ended yet, that there was still hope. That there was even still worth to his life.

And he knew one thing for sure. Past the dizzy whirl of chaos, engulfing his agonizing mind, he realized what she was trying to tell him, what she was offering the very moment insanity was threatening to claim his mind.

He had to do it. A leap of faith, the only thing able to prevent him from losing himself in Telac's power. He had to trust his hope, trust his friends – even if he couldn't see what this hope would bring in the future.

Closing his eyes, he somehow felt resolute for the first time in days.

He would never come out alone. Even if it hurt, he had to concede that he could do absolutely nothing to end this ordeal, that his only chance of ever leaving this hell lay now with others.

The only thing he could do was try to persevere. And trust his friends.

No matter what Telac did to him, no matter how much he tried to get Julian give him the data he needed in order to finish his work, he wouldn't give it to him. And he would hold on.

Until they found him…

* * *

Crude light spilled in through the gap in the door, accompanied by a scratching sound.

He barely noticed. Closing his eyes against the brightness, he tried to sink back into that all-surrounding, engulfing darkness. If they had come for him, he would know anyway. No need to hurry.

Seconds later he felt a warm hand on his shoulder – and then he was rolled over, not able to help it, for his arms and legs felt as numb as his whole body. Someone was there, though he couldn't bring up enough strength to worry about it.

They must have realized in the end. _That I'm nearly about to die..._ he bitterly thought. _That they've put me on the verge of the impossible. No human body could endure such torture for incalculable time..._

He wasn't pleased with that thought. If they just let him sleep, if they just let him rest long enough to re-gather some of his strength...

Julian felt that he was being dragged up, still not fighting back the overwhelming exhaustion his sleepy mind was lulled in. Someone was there, making him sit up, though he was just too weak to keep his own body in an upward position. The other person seemed to notice, gently supporting Julian's upper body with his or her own.

"My god, you're really in a bad shape," a voice said. "Drink that. It'll help you recover."

Not wanting to argue with the voice, he took some sips, still not opening his eyes, then turned his head, inadvertently letting the warm, sweet liquid run down his chin. Another hand softly made him drink more of the lukewarm beverage. Too exhausted to care much, Julian offered no more resistance, draining the cup and letting his head drop back as soon as he was finished. No matter what it was, it couldn't possibly be worse than what Telac had done to him. Not that it mattered anyway…

"That's good. You'll be feeling better soon. You'll see."

He felt himself being eased down again, his mind already wandering off to some distant void. Julian didn't even notice the stranger leave, when his thoughts had already lost themselves in the twilight of sleep.

* * *

The next time he woke, he felt decidedly stronger, he could even manage to sit. An awkward position it was, though, leaning against one of the walls, waiting in the dimness for what seemed to him like an eternity.

It could be worse, though. It must have been some time since Telac's last call, since his almost final breakdown – and Julian was glad for it. His whole body was still exhausted with pain and hunger but he felt better now. Better than in the previous hours full of semi-consciousness and tantalizing agony that never ceased to linger. He felt stronger now. His head a little bit clearer. Breathing was still an unnatural effort but somehow he managed.

It was all of a sudden, that his meandering thoughts were drawn back to reality.

The door opened.

In a split second he felt his heartbeat anxiously fasten, making him crouch even further into the dark corner, staring with dilated eyes at the distant door. The only thing he could think of was that he didn't want to go back. He didn't know if he could endure it any longer. Wincing, he covered his eyes when a sudden brightness filled the room. It didn't take too long for his eyes to adjust, realizing that the light wasn't as bright as he had thought. In fact, it was dim enough for him to actually see things. He could even discern the details of the figures now. One was the girl, ever watching but never moving or saying a single word. And the other...

"I'm sorry... to disturb you," a gentle voice said.

Looking up at the newcomer filling the doorframe, Julian was nearly about to jump up, then hesitated, though.

"You can hardly call that disturbing," Julian retorted after a few seconds, slowly letting go of the fear. Obviously that man wasn't one of the guards for neither of the two black-clad men had ever bothered to speak to him.

The other man stepped closer, kneeling down beneath Julian and posing a small tray on the ground. "I... suppose you're hungry. Please..."

Leaning his head back, Julian didn't make any further move, almost ignoring the other person completely. He wasn't ready to believe him, no matter if his words were true or not. He was still a prisoner. And he had been tortured. He couldn't trust the stranger more than he could trust Telac.

"I'm... not hungry. Thanks."

"But you haven't had anything to eat for days!" the other man held.

_Only days? Rather seems like weeks…_

Slightly confused, Julian noticed that the stranger really seemed to worry about his health, though that didn't make it any easier for him.

"You have to regain some strength. Besides, it tastes good."

He didn't care if the food was edible or not. He didn't want to eat. He didn't want to regain his strength. He wanted to be left alone. Untouched. Able to survive long enough for Starfleet to find him. That was everything that mattered right now. He didn't want to be brought back to health. As long as he was on the verge of death they wouldn't touch him. It would just start all over again. And he would never be able to go through it once more without losing his sanity.

"Why don't you just give up?"

The question came so unexpected, so all of a sudden. It was said in a low, commiserating whisper; the other man shaking his head and turning his gaze away from Julian.

"You know that you can't win, don't you? And still you refuse to give up. You'll just make things worse, you know that. Last time you were nearly about to _die_. And still you won't let yourself be involved with Telac's plans..."

Taking a deep breath, Julian closed his eyes, trying not to think about the words. "I've got... no other choice. I can't help him. There are so many lives at stake and... I just can't give up yet..."

"But you've suffered enough. If you don't give up now, things will probably get even worse..."

A desperate, sad smile crossed Julian's lips. "It's... really hard to imagine... isn't it. I mean... that things might get... even _worse_," he managed, fighting back the fear at the mere thought of what the words actually meant.

"But why? There's nothing you can do about it. He'll kill you. But before that he'll break you – there's no way to avoid the unavoidable."

Julian met his gaze. He had to tell him. He had to tell somebody why he was opposing Telac's orders; against all rationality, to voice aloud what had made him realize that things weren't over yet. He knew he would never get out alone. But he still had hope. That was why he was still there, enduring Telac's torture, still breathing for he hadn't given up hope yet. He almost had, but he had been unexpectedly caught before losing himself in the impenetrable abyss below…

Casting a swift but affectionate smile – at least he tried to make it a smile – towards the young girl, he couldn't help noticing how much he already cared about her. Like before, she hadn't spoken after the incident, nor had she made any more advances. But still it didn't matter, for he knew that she had given him her trust…

Facing the other man again, Julian took in a deep breath.

"They'll come for me. I know that... Starfleet will find me and... Captain Sisko, Dax, they'll come for me... I'm sure they'll find me..." he tried in a whisper, his own voice sounding barely convincing to himself. But still it was true. He'd be rescued. He knew that for sure. Someone would come for him and it was up to him to stay alive until then.

"You have to eat."

Confused about the sudden change in topics, Julian eyed the tray of food in disgust. He _was_ hungry. He couldn't think of the last time he had something to eat. His stomach was as much aching from hunger than from pain, but still he just couldn't bring himself to touch it.

There was a long silence before the other man spoke again.

"Then do it for your captain. You'll have to regain some power if you want to withstand Telac until they find you. If you're right and they'll come for you – you perhaps have a small chance if you get stronger again."

Nodding ever so slightly, Julian cast his look to the ground. "I'll consider that..."

"Well, I've got to go now..." the other one said, slowly dragging himself up again and with a short commiserating smile he turned and left, taking with him the meager light.

The room was bathed in dimness again.

* * *

"You still refuse to help me, Julian?"

Somehow even Telac must have realized it in the end. That he couldn't win by torturing Bashir to death. He almost had, but obviously he had realized it in time to make him stay. Julian didn't know how much time had passed since their last encounter. He had regained some power since, still feeling miserable, but no longer in any immediate physical danger. Julian had been even glad for the time alone…

"I was really hoping not to take this measure, but as I can see, you don't leave me any other choice."

Bashir was standing in the middle of the room, unmoving. It was very early in the morning – at least he thought it was morning for he had already lost count of the days – and unlike the previous times, he hadn't been strapped to the wall. He knew though, that Telac's new plan could hardly be better than his previous.

Telac offered a broad smile, closing in on the young doctor and after a short beckoning of the head, Julian heard the metal doors open once again. He didn't even turn, nor did he care. Just another one of Telac's petty games. Never removing his stare from the opposite wall, he failed to notice the two guards until they were standing in front of Telac – with another prisoner carried in the middle. Julian turned his head only far enough to catch a short glimpse of the three newcomers – and subsequently felt his heart skip several beats.

_Captain Sisko_. The man hanging sunken down between the two men was _Captain Sisko_.

Julian couldn't help staring, aghast at both men, his face growing all at once pallid with shock and incredulousness; stunned by the sight he had least expected to see. He didn't know how he had gotten here, but seeing his own captain in that paltrily, battered shape in front of his eyes was like a violent slap across his face.

The brief, barely felt joy of reunion – or what was much more important: the fact that they had actually _found_ him! – was immediately drowned by the horror of how Sisko had gotten into Telac's power? He wasn't the man to be carelessly taking risks. If Bashir could imagine someone being able to stop this madness, it was Sisko – at least Julian had hoped so. Seeing his captain sunken down in front of Telac, seeing his wretched, pitiful condition, Julian felt his hope irreversibly dashed into hundreds of thousandsof pieces.

"That… can't be true…" he stammered incoherently, struggling against the overwhelming surge of despair.

Telac apparently relished the young man's bewildered sight.

"Strap him."

Like in trance, Julian watched the guards dragging Sisko to the opposite wall, the captain never offering any resistance. He seemed exhausted and tired, obviously not having been treated better than Julian himself. Not able to take his eyes off of the horrific sight, Bashir's mind involuntarily began to race. He didn't even realize Telac stepping next to him, until the elder man finally spoke up.

"And now listen well, Julian. There is a new task I want you to accomplish." One side of Telac's mouth curled up in amusement. "I want you to kill him. Slowly. With this knife."

And he held up a long, dagger-shaped knife, presenting it to Bashir who could do nothing but stare incredulously at Telac. It took some time till he finally realized what the elder man was demanding him to do, managing somehow to overcome his shock and shake his head.

"I'm a doctor, no murderer," he brought forth with great effort.

Telac laughed out in mock humor. "You're underrating me, Julian!"

He beckoned again and the guards left the room, entering with two other persons a short while after.

"Dax!" Julian's voice nearly cracked.

She didn't face him, behind her was the young blonde girl from the cell. Julian involuntarily held his breath, refusing to imagine what it possibly meant that Telac had brought them along.

Confused and speechless, Bashir alternately looked at Telac and Sisko, his earlier passiveness broken by his dashed hope.

His thoughts wouldn't stop spinning. It couldn't possibly be real. These people just couldn't be Captain Sisko and Lieutenant Dax. Perhaps it was just another of Telac's warped schemes to break him, but he refused to accept that this was reality. It made no sense. This couldn't be reality!

"What are you up to, Telac?" Bashir couldn't help shaking with barely subdued, desperate anger. "Do you think I'll fall for your petty tricks? That's not Captain Sisko!"

Telac held up his hands, ever smiling. "You're absolutely sure? It was you who said that Starfleet would send a rescue team to come for you. Well, too bad they didn't know of the planet's defensive system."

Bashir shot an uncertain look at Dax. "He's right, Julian," she whispered, tears filling her beautiful eyes.

"No, I can't believe that!"

Startled he realized the tricorder Telac was offering. "Then prove it yourself."

Reluctantly grabbing the tricorder, he didn't dare take a look at the bio signatures, though he didn't have another choice. His mind dizzy with various emotions, he finally found the strength to step forth, cautiously nearing the Captain. It couldn't be. Julian was sure it was just another one of Telac's perverse games, another way of trying to break him. But still. He couldn't push that nagging feeling away. What if it really was Sisko? What if Julian's last chance and hope of rescue was destroyed in that very room? He would have opposed in vain, all the pain he had gone through, it would never come to an end. With shaky hands he lifted the tricorder, taking in the bio signatures... and subsequently he felt his stomach turn.

It _was_ Sisko.

"Oh my god, it's Captain Sisko and Lieutenant Dax..."

Not able to move, Julian felt Telac take away his tricorder.

"I won't repeat my order."

It took Julian a moment to realize the full capacity of what he had to face. His heart was almost bursting, the surge of panic overwhelming.

It _was _Sisko. None of Telac's games. This was reality. And Bashir stood in it's very middle.

He didn't know what to do. For the first time in days he felt that he no longer had the slightest control over the situation. He only knew for sure that he would never kill Sisko, never even consider the _possibility_. Telac's order was utterly insane. And Julian was sure that the elder man knew it as well.

"If you oppose my order, Lieutenant Dax will die." And Telac held another knife under Jadzia's throat, the young woman not even fighting against the rough treatment.

Julian frantically thought about a solution. He wouldn't kill Sisko. He would never ever kill his commanding officer. But if he didn't, Telac would murder Jadzia. Still staring at the elder man and Dax, he shook his head. He was stuck in a nightmare. The whole world had turned into an indescribable nightmare. Feeling short of breath, Julian was barely able to think at all.

"No, I can't," he pleaded. He would do anything Telac wanted him to do. He would undertake every physical pain, but this order was utterly insane.

Without another argument and without forewarn, Telac pulled the knife through Dax' throat, making Julian involuntarily cry out in surprise and dismay, while the young woman slowly slipped from Telac's grip. Blood was already running down her uniform, dripping to the gray floor and collecting itself in small puddles. Bashir couldn't grasp what he had just witnessed. It had happened so fast. So ludicrously fast.

"No," he whispered in bewilderment. It couldn't be real. God, it just couldn't be real. Staring aghast, at the young Trill's corpse, he frantically refused to accept what had just happened.

Jadzia.

Telac had murdered Jadzia, the young woman he had felt so very attracted to, he had fallen in love with, ever since their first meeting on the station more than four years ago. Even now her pallid, inert face was so beautiful, so graceful that seeing her lifeless body, carelessly slumped in front of Telac's feet, almost tore up his heart, the weight of grief and guilt almost sending him to the ground. Julian already felt his legs give way but Telac didn't even give him time for mourning.

"You'll kill Sisko or the girl is the next one to die."

It was mad. Julian's shoulders were shaking when he faced Telac, pleading. No, he just couldn't. How could Telac expect him to kill Sisko? His own captain? An innocent man? How had he even dared touch Jadzia?

"If you still won't follow my orders, more people will die. I'll kill them, one after another, until you obey my wishes."

Telac's voice was icy, driving Julian to the edge of sanity. "No... no... you... can't do that..." he stammered, stumbling backwards away from Telac. An inner voice was urging him to turn his back and run. Run as far away as he could. But still, he knew that many innocent people would probably die for his action. He felt short of breath, feeling the walls around him tumbling ever nearer. But there was no escape. When there was one thing he was able to grasp, it was that this time there didn't exist any loophole. Not for him. Telac was serious, more serious than Julian would have ever imagined. Desperate tears filled his eyes as he looked back at Jadzia's lifeless, mangled body. Then the young girl whose life was now completely in his hands. He had sworn to protect her...

Telac would kill her. Julian was absolutely sure of that. And Telac would kill other people. Until Julian did what he wanted. He held the young girl's life in his very hands – and that of another innocent man – as well as the lives of so many others he didn't even know.

Telac had made him a judge of life and death and that was too much for Bashir. He had his ideals, his principles. He had been told what was good and bad ever since his childhood and he had always acted according to his conscience. He had made decisions based on his principles. He had become a doctor, ever following his ideals. He had sworn an oath. An oath to protect life. And now he was forced to betray everything he believed in. There was no other way. Not for him. Telac held Julian's life in his hands and no matter what might come, he would force a decision out of the young man.

Julian felt so nauseated, so utterly desperate because he knew his life wasn't his own any longer. Telac had told him that more than once, had tried to make him realize that opposing his orders would just lead to further suffering.

"I can't do it…" Bashir wasn't sure if the words ever made it past his lips. The answer, though, came as a violent blow, as Telac violently grabbed the young girl's shoulders, the blood-soaked knife already in his hand.

"You don't have any choice left, Julian. I'll have you kill Sisko, I'll have you obey my wishes no matter how many lives I have to destroy in order to seize control over yours. Look at your little girl friend. You know that it's your fault, don't you? She wouldn't have had to lose her life if you had obeyed in the first place. How many more lives does it take to make you give up yours?" Smiling a cruel smile, Telac pressed the knife harder against the girl's skin. "She'll die. You better hurry."

"Telac, she… she's just a girl. Please, leave…" Bashir was begging for Telac's mercy, completely ignoring his pride, but was abruptly stopped by the young girl's fearful scream, when the elder man added more pressure to the knife. Julian couldn't help staring horrified at the small, red trickle, oozing down from the knife's tip.

"Stop…" he managed "Stop it!"

"Then do what I told you!" Telac shouted, drowning out the girl's anxious sobbing.

"I…"

"Do it or she'll die!"

_Break down. _

He wanted to break down on the very spot he was standing on, cry out against the crushing weight of hopelessness; lose himself and weep over every wrong direction his life had been taken into, in the last two weeks. Cry and weep about how life had turned into hell, how it had been taken from him, how he was abused, how his will was being turned against himself. How senseless and loathsome his very own life had become.

But still he couldn't, his emotional part was deafened by the rational part of himself; telling him that breaking down would just make things worse, that giving in to his own agonizing pain would probably cost other people their lives.

He had already killed Jadzia, a person who had meant so much to him. And he would kill so many other innocent people. There was no way to avoid murder. No matter his decision, he wouldn't be able to avoid murder…

His vision blurred, Julian looked at Sisko, then at Telac and the young girl – and something broke deep within his heart.

The man Julian Bashir, the doctor, whose principles and ideals, whose passion for justice and right had directed his life so far, died in the very moment when he finally took hold of the knife and made a decision.

He tried not to think, just concentrated on the wall at the far side of the room. He had once sworn an oath to protect life. He had to do so, even if it meant to sacrifice one man's life for so many others. Even if Julian had to betray everything he believed in, even if he had to betray his own self. Even if he would never be able to forgive himself of the dreadful deed he was about to do. Was forced to do.

His face completely expressionless, he stepped forward, stopping in front of Sisko and meeting the other man's gaze. It wasn't only one man's life he was about to destroy. He knew. Thinking back on Kasidy, Jake, Joseph Sisko he knew it for sure. He wouldn't just destroy Sisko's life; he would end up hurting everyone whose lives were so closely bound to his.

The memories, however, didn't belong to him anymore. They were Dr. Julian Bashir's and he knew he would never be able to return there.

"I'm... sorry..." he whispered with a broken voice, almost too weak to will himself to stand.

Sisko met his gaze squarely, his mouth twisted in agony.

Words.

Julian had to do it before a single word left the captain's lips. With all his strength he stabbed the elder man's heart, Sisko's wide eyes bewildered with what Julian had just done, almost praying to him to make everything undone. But Julian couldn't fulfill this hope. He would never again be able to fulfill anyone's hope…

"Very well, doctor."

He barely noticed Telac stepping next to his side. He was still staring terrified at his bloody hands, not loosening the tight grip around the knife. Sisko's blood. He hardly felt able to breathe...

He had murdered his captain.

"I see, you learnt your lesson well. Your life is mine. It will be mine forever and there is nothing you can do about it."

Julian didn't look up, nauseated by his own action. It was that very moment when his self-respect lost itself in Sisko's flooding blood.

Almost gently, Telac took him by his shoulders, conducting him back toward the table in the middle of the room.

"I want you to swear an oath, Julian. An oath of everlasting loyalty."

Not awaiting Julian's reaction, he reached out for a heavy goblet in front of him, presenting it with another loathsome, cruel smile. Reluctantly and hesitating the young man took hold of it.

"I want you to drain it to the dregs. If you disobey, the girl will be next."

Pleading, Julian watched the older man, finally nodded. _It just has to stop. God, make it stop!_

"What... is it?"

"Blood. Jadzia's blood."

Julian nearly let the goblet drop. "No..." he shook his head, tears filling his eyes and blurring his vision. He could defeat his mind, but he wouldn't be able to defeat his own body.

"If you don't do it, I'll kill her. I'll let more people die until you agree to my wishes!"

It was madness. A never, never, never-ending nightmare. Life had become a madness he couldn't free himself from. He barely felt his mind any more when his fingers clenched around the goblet. The mere sight of the thick, red liquid made his stomach turn. But the young girl would die. Her life lay in Julian's hand. She had heard what he was expected to do and now she was waiting. For life or death.

It was just blood, he told himself. He would do it. It didn't matter that it was Jadzia's. It didn't matter that it was anyone's. In that very moment nothing mattered any more. He shut out every thought and began to take a sip at the warm, iron liquid. Catching his breath he forced it down.

After the third sip, he involuntarily let the goblet drop, clutching one hand desperately over his mouth, trying to accept it. But in vain. Crying and sobbing he dropped to his knees, vomited, choked and just couldn't stop the urge to retch. He knew Telac would kill her, but he just couldn't stop retching.

When he heard the smacking sound of the knife, cutting the girl's throat, he threw both arms above his head, covering himself. Furled up and shaking he couldn't stop the tears from running down his cheeks, sobbing and wishing to die in that very place. If he just let him die, die, die…

"I won't make it that easy for you, Julian."

He hated him. Julian hated Telac for what he had done to him. What he had turned Julian to be.But it was helplessness and despair that broke down upon the young man harder than everything he could have ever imagined.

"I'll have you drink that blood. If you disobey, I'll have many other people to cast in their lot with your friends..."

He felt a firm grip, heaving him up again until he stood once more in front of the older man who once more offered Julian the goblet.

"You're far away from any decision. If you drink, your life is mine. You'll never be able to go back. If you disobey; your will, will still be yours, but they'll die. As long as you don't give it up."

Julian couldn't even bring up the strength to cry, any more. The only thing he was still taking in, was Jadzia and Sisko's lifeless corpses. And he had killed them. Even if Dax had died by Telac's hand, it was Julian's fault. And the young girl's death. If he didn't drink now, he would continue his murders. It was as Telac had said. Julian didn't have any choice anymore.

It was the moment when he took the goblet, that he gave himself up. He shut down every smallest thought, every smallest emotion. There was no Sisko, no Dax anymore. No girl. There was no one who could reproach him, no one to pity him; no one to judge his actions, no one he would ever come back to, no one of any importance to him. There was no one who had ever known that Julian Bashir had died along with the others.

No one.

No one.

No one…

Having drained the goblet, his face was ghostly and expressionless, the young man staring at Telac with no emotion at all.

"From this time on, you'll help me with the construction of the layer destruction bomb. I'll have you some accommodations provided. You're free to take part in the outer world's activity or make some acquaintances. I'm sure you've learned your lesson well."

Julian still didn't respond, not even blink.

"If you intend to run away or kill yourself, there will be others who suffer the consequences. Understood?"

Julian nodded.

"Very well. Every now and then we'll have to talk about your loyalty again but for now, you're free to go."

Gesturing toward the thick iron door, he smiled, though Julian didn't pay any attention. Without looking back, he left the room. As soon as the door snapped back in place, Julian unconsciously fell in a heap on the floor.

* * *

It was the computer's voice that woke him, though he couldn't remember having given any orders or having activated the alarm call. Still, the gentle voice insisted on an affirmation.

Tired and slightly disorientated he pulled the blanket away, trying to track the noise back to its origin. Rolling over and stumbling out of bed, he suddenly felt dizzy, noticing in surprise that his legs felt like rubber. He pushed that feeling aside, though, and went to find the origin of the call.

When his gaze dropped down to a small companel next to the door, he instinctively pressed the shiny red button, whereupon the voice vanished immediately.

It was strange, though, he couldn't remember having activated the alarm call. Dazed, he shook his head, casting a curious look around. His quarters were tidied up, and there was also a couch, along with two armchairs, a table and a small replicator. The door in the opposite wall had to lead to some sort of bathroom.

His head was still not clear and his muscles ached with every step he made. Slowly he found his way to the bathroom, running cold water across his tired face, then looking at his own reflection in the mirror above the sink, making him involuntarily wince at the fatigue and paleness he saw.

How had he gotten here? He just couldn't remember...

The high-pitched sound of the door's bell suddenly arrested his attention and when Julian followed the chirp to the door of his quarters he found a tall, blond man with square shoulders in front of his quarters, about the same age as Julian.

"Oh, sorry to disturb you," he hastily said, realizing that Julian still wasn't dressed, wearing light blue pajamas. "Doctor Julian Bashir?"

Julian nodded – still too disoriented to bother much about anyone seeing him in his nightwear. "Yes, what can I do for you?"

The other man offered a sheepish grin. "My Name is John Whincy but you can call me John. I'm coming because of your replicator."

Julian nodded again, gesturing for John to enter.

"I hope you haven't planned to have breakfast, yet. I was supposed to come here yesterday but I was just too busy. I hope you didn't mind..."

"No," Julian replied "to be honest, I've just gotten up."

"Are you hungry then?"

Julian looked slightly confused, when John added: "It might take some time. If you're hungry you should go get something to eat in the cafeteria."

Yes, he was hungry. Very hungry indeed. It felt as if he hadn't had anything to eat for days. So he nodded.

"Ok, so, if you dress we could go together."

Julian went back into the bedroom, leaving John in the living room. However, stopping in front of his wardrobe, he hesitated. What to wear? So he went back to John.

"I... think you're working at the infirmary, aren't you? Why not dress for work?" John smiled thoughtfully.

Without another word the young man went back to the wardrobe, flicking through the countless clothes there. Most of them were of a dark brown, gray or in the same blue as John's overalls. But then his fingers ran over another piece of black fabric. Shortly hesitating, he took the overalls. They were black, blue-trimmed at the shoulder part. A lilac shirt underneath.

Uncertain, he turned it over, inhaling the scent of fresh laundry. Within a second he had made up his mind.

When he came back to John, he could see John's surprised face. "Well, you look pretty good in that, Dr. Bashir."

Julian somehow started to relax. Perhaps it was because of that other man's presence but he felt a heavy weight drop from his chest.

"Oh, please, I'm Julian," he wearily managed to smile.

It was strange, but he somehow already liked that young man. Perhaps they could become friends...


	6. Chapter 5

**"Hidden Memories" - Chapter 5**

Watching the other man slowly pace to and fro, Sisko took in a deep breath and steepled his hands decidedly in front of his chest. A gesture he had repeated so often before, indicating his firm attitude he would not let go, no matter the consequences. His expression deadpan but resolute, he was intently watching Telac.

"You know, why you're here, Captain?" The other man suddenly stopped in mid-stride, hands clasped behind his back. Slowly but deliberately he turned, taking a short step toward the small table with its two plain chairs where Sisko was waiting for Telac to voice his business to him.

"Actually I don't," Sisko replied in a firm voice, about to extend his answer and then deciding to hold back and let Telac make the first step. He had already heard about Telac's incredible plan from O'Brien and therefore knew that he was very likely to hear it first-hand now – though he couldn't say he was looking forward to it.

Telac nodded. Without another word he moved to the table and nonchalantly took the seat in front of Sisko, facing him with a seriousness that startled even the captain.

"I need data," was everything Telac said, his cold tone clearly indicating that he wouldn't allow any contradiction.

"What data?"

Telac made a vague gesture, snorting scornfully at the question, as if its answer was too obvious to be voiced aloud.

"About the wormhole. I need you to tell me about the wormhole. About your _Celestial Temple_ as you may call it. I need you to tell me about its internal subspace structure, its neutrino flux sequence, the very details to lend my work the destructive power it needs. To cut it short, I want all the data that your Starfleet has available, on the internal structure of the wormhole."

Leaning back, Sisko didn't take his eyes off the other man. Telac might be serious, but so was Sisko. Very serious. Although O'Brien had already elaborated on Telac's plan to destroy the wormhole, Sisko hadn't really believed it to be true.

At first sight, it was ridiculous. How could anyone seriously project to blow up the wormhole linking the Alpha and the Gamma Quadrant? There were so many things to consider. Not only the bomb, the specifications that had to be applied to its warhead in order to match the exact neutrino sequence so that the destructive energy outburst actually made the steady subspace matrix of the wormhole collapse. Absently shaking his head, Sisko thought of the difficulties of such a wild-goose chase. But apart from the technical complications, he wasn't sure if Telac was actually aware of the fact that his bomb wouldn't even make it anywhere near the wormhole's entrance. If he had a ship and directly placed the device into the passage, it might have been possible but under the present circumstances – there wasn't even any chance the bomb could elude the regular sensor sweeps of the Federation's subspace relay system. Telac's plan was absurd and utopian – but somehow Sisko couldn't shake the feeling that this didn't even matter to the man.

"I can't give it to you. And I wouldn't do it if I could. I don't know what makes you think you can get away with such a deed but you should be aware of the consequences. Even _trying_ to send a bomb to the wormhole will be considered an offense on the United Federation of Planets. Apart from the fact that your plan won't be successful, you'll have to officially account for your actions."

Telac shook his head, an expression of pure contempt crossing his face. His brow furrowed with disdain as he squarely held Sisko's gaze.

"Don't you dare make a fool of me, Captain. I'm very well aware of the difficulties I'll have to face and believe me, I've already undertaken every step necessary to make everything go off without a hitch. I'm not insane, Captain, I'm more sane than anyone else," he hissed, then regained some composure, taking in a deep breath and scowling at the other man.

"I'll just end what has unnecessarily begun four years ago, when your race made use of the passage leading to our world. You have never been asked but still you decided it on your own, planning to explore the unknown territory, intruding into our privacy, making the Gamma Quadrant one of your little adventure trips." Sisko could see the open hostility that was now almost distorting Telac's face, his former composure gone with the intense rage and hatred now so perceivable beyond his dark, cruel eyes.

"No one ever welcomed you here, Captain. But nevertheless you came and you brought with you only trouble and unrest by forcing other worlds to follow your principles. _Obtruded_ principles by a race not satisfied with what it has already annexed. No. Your races, your _United Federation of Planets_, your _adventurers_ never had enough. With the Alpha Quadrant so uninteresting, so familiar, so _normal_, you were more than delighted to have a new opportunity to gain new influence, new territories. You established colonies. On worlds already inhabited! How could you even dare? How could your Federation even dare intrude on other peoples privacies? Who are you to rob the freedom from others, to establish strafes in worlds not even your own?"

Telac's tirade was all but finished, when he suddenly turned his head, casting his gaze toward the floor. His eyes were so full of hatred and wrath that Sisko wasn't sure if he would ever make it out of the room alive.

"Yes you came, Captain, and you brought us war. And now I'm going to end this war. I'll close the passage. I'll make the Gamma Quadrant what it had been for centuries, for millennia before your disturbance of peace. And I'll make Felan III the authority it once had been."

Sisko's brow furrowed, not knowing how to tell – how to actually _convince _– Telac that one single, certainly futile terrorist attack would change nothing . "You don't believe in what your saying, do you?"

"I do, Captain Sisko, I do. I'll restore my planet's dignity. As soon as the wormhole is destroyed, Felan III will regain its former power. And then we'll restore peace. We'll never let it happen again."

It was absurd. Not only Telac's plan to close the wormhole but all his ideas. The man obviously twisted reality to his favor, though Sisko couldn't think of how to make him realize that he was wrong. That all his conception was a wrong and distorted version of reality.

To the best of his recollection, Felan III had never held any significant status within this territory of space. When he had consulted the computer's library back on the station, Felan III had been put as a planet fairly detached from outer worlds. It didn't even dispose of any larger space vessels, nor of any other necessary means to realize Telac's claims. With the planetary defense system in its orbit, the Felani were at best able to keep uninvited guests out of their homeworld. Expanding policies just didn't fit with them – not mentioning that they were all but viable.

"What about the Dominion?"

Telac seemed to be caught off guard as he faced Sisko in confusion, his hatred replaced by some nondescript emotion that was hard to place.

"You forgot about the Dominion," Sisko bargained thoughtfully, not missing Telac's slightest reaction. "If there's anybody claiming to police order and peace in the Gamma Quadrant, it's the Dominion. I don't think they'll agree to share power."

"You apparently don't understand. It's not about the _Dominion_. They're far away, busy with their own business. I'm talking about _Felan III_, about the outer territory of the Gamma Quadrant. The Dominion has never claimed to control these regions so utterly uninteresting to their aims. But still we do need some order-making authority. We need peace. We have to reestablish order!"

"The Dominion won't share your opinion," Sisko held, still determined to stop this madness.

Telac obviously was about to follow up with still more vehement ideological ideas, but kept silent as he shook his head in resignation. Chuckling humorlessly, he let out a long sigh, before he finally resumed the conversation.

"And even if they would, it's no business of yours, Captain. The only thing you have to contribute, is the data I need. It's that easy."

"And I'm sorry that I can't give it to you. I won't change my mind, Telac."

A short but intense silence followed Sisko's last statement, then the other man spoke up again, slightly shaking his head and smiling a sad smile. It was too calm and rational a reaction to bode well.

"How amazing. Your doctor said the same…"

"What about Dr. Bashir?" Sisko asked, feeling his own pent-up rage slowly rise and filling in his chest.

Drawing himself up, Telac sighed. "How I hate these discussions. They're long and exhausting and in the end you never get anywhere." Turning to Sisko he clasped again his hands behind his back. "It was the same with Julian. Brave young boy, he was. He'd said exactly the same, refused to help me, told me that I was mad and that he'd never agree to my plans. Believe me, Captain, it has taken me great effort to make him realize that he was wrong."

Almost feeling the bile rise in his throat, Sisko suddenly stood up, too. He couldn't bare hearing Telac speak in that irreverent way of Julian. Not after what he had actually done to the young man….

"Torture isn't the right means to make anybody voluntarily believe in your truth, Telac," the captain scornfully said through clenched teeth.

"It isn't," the other man replied coldly, "but it is effective. Given time, you'll see that."

When Sisko didn't reply, Telac nodded.

"I'll leave you some time. You may consider my offer till then – but keep one thing in mind: You and your friends are completely at my mercy. As well as Julian's health."

Before Telac could turn round and leave, he was called back by Sisko's angry voice.

"What about Julian? Where have you taken him?"

Telac stopped, fixing Sisko with his chilly stare. "As I said, your doctor's health is completely in my hands – or let's say, in _yours._"

Without another word he left, making Sisko only slowly realize what the last words really meant.

* * *

"Any news?"

Jadzia was still sitting with her back against the uneven wall of the cell, her legs folded in front of her. She seemed tired, though he couldn't tell if she was just missing sleep or weary because of the last days' enormous mental stress. When he settled himself next to her, leaning back and gently rubbing his eyes, her frown involuntarily deepened. Even though he couldn't see her with closed eyes, her expression must have been one of worry and seriousness.

"How did it go?" she gently asked, waiting patiently for Sisko to settle in and share his experience on the encounter.

"Not very well... I suppose."

"You suppose?"

Sighing shortly, Sisko took away his hand and tried to compose himself. It was hard to fight down the anger their little conversation had provoked within him and it was harder still not to give in to the urge now and thump the wall behind him. Being so helpless and without an alternative just furthered his annoyance. Not wanting to repeat Telac's ludicrous version of reality, he cut it short: "Telac plans on destroying the wormhole."

He could see Jadzia's bewilderment as she all at once sat up completely. "So it's really true?"

"I guess it is," Sisko said tiredly, not sure how to estimate the new turn of events. "Though I can't see anything we could do about it, except wait." And in an afterthought he added: "How's your work going, Chief?"

After Telac had both Bashir and O'Brien lead out of the cell, only O'Brien had come back some hours later, telling them about Telac's work and that he was expected to take part in finishing the bomb. They didn't have too much time to discuss the matter, when O'Brien had been called back again – and hadn't returned yet when Sisko had been called to see Telac, himself.

"Too well, I guess," O'Brien snorted. "Most of the inner systems are already online – or will be within the next few hours. I'd say, one or two days more and the bomb will be ready for launch. They're already running test sequences with miniature probes; small and harmless enough to actually trigger the wormhole. I tried to delay the progress the best I could without anyone noticing, though they're already growing suspicious. Telac has one of the guards assigned to watch every step I take and he just doesn't strike me as a very easy-structured type."

"Chief, according to your estimation, how much destruction could the bomb make, if it should actually reach the wormhole?"

The Irishman's frown deepened as he was obviously feeling uneasy about an answer. "Well, if it really reached the wormhole, I'd say, we'd better be back in the Alpha Quadrant by then."

Jadzia's mouth gaped open. "You mean, there really is the danger that…"

"…Telac could destroy the Celestial Temple," Sisko ended the sentence. "We have to prevent this by all means."

"There's still hope, Captain. When Telac asked me to help I wondered what there could be left to do… It's the shield emitters. Telac doesn't know how to get his bomb into the wormhole without it being detected in the first place. He's got the bomb but he still doesn't know how to fire it without anyone noticing and destroying it before it reaches its aim," O'Brien elaborated, giving them a thoughtful look.

"And he won't know if we don't tell him." Sisko was anything but glad about the direction this discussion was leading into.

Dax wasn't too convinced yet. "Why doesn't he just bring it aboard a ship, set course toward the wormhole and place it directly into the passage's opening? That would be much easier."

Shaking his head, O'Brien took a deep breath. "The bomb's too heavy and bulky. He'd need at least three times as big a ship to transport it and from what I know the Felani don't dispose of such heavy vessels." And in an afterthought he added: "They're no spacetravelling world. The planet might have some survey ships, small cargo vessels or short-range runabouts, but nothing as big as being of any use to Telac's plan. The only way he can place the bomb, is to directly fire it from the planet's surface. And without the specific shield emitters it won't make it past the subspace relay system."

"At least this is good news." Sisko sighed and recalling his conversation with Telac some time earlier, he said: "There's also another thing still missing in Telac's scheme. He still needs the right specification to adjust the energy modulation in the warhead to the exact neutrino flux within the wormhole to work the most destruction and make its inner subspace matrix collapse."

"He could have learned that from Julian," O'Brien said in confusion, "Such specifications are not secret. Julian would have known. Even by checking the runabout's data base Telac should have easily been able to find out about the internal neutrino flux."

"Well, whatever happened, let's be at least glad he hasn't." His face almost completely expressionless, the captain seemed absorbed in his own thoughts.

"We have to play for time. I'm sure DS9 already knows what happened. We have to gain enough time to delay Telac's plans as long as possible." Jadzia wasn't glad about the idea either, but there wasn't much choice left. They had to prevent Telac from finishing his bomb, no matter what may come.

It was when Sisko didn't answer, when he took a deep breath, clearly showing his uneasiness, that the young Trill knew that he hadn't told them everything. Some sort of misgiving already told her, that their plan wasn't as simple as she had thought.

"It's not that easy, Old Man. I wish it were, but it isn't. Telac still has Julian – and he'll use him to make us follow his orders. Not telling him what he wants to hear is very likely to involve Dr. Bashir, and make his situation even worse."

"You mean, they'll torture _him_ to make _us_ talk," O'Brien slowly grasped, shooting them a confused look.

"But Benjamin, we can't give Telac the information, that's just impossible." Sisko could sense Jadzia's bewilderment but also her fear of losing Julian.

"I know," he said, wishing that he didn't. "And you can be sure that Telac won't get any data. And that's an order. Not one of us will give him any information he needs, neither the specifications of the wormhole nor any actual help on his shield emitters. Our only hope lies with being rescued in time. Until then we have to hold out."

O'Brien incredulously shook his head. "But what about Julian? We'll risk his life! He'll be _tortured!_ He'll probably even be killed…"

"I know that, Chief, and believe me, I'm sorry. I wish I could help Julian but under the circumstances no one can. Neither you, nor Lieutenant Dax, nor I. The only chance left is to keep him alive long enough for Starfleet to find us." Rubbing over his grainy eyes, Sisko let out a long sigh, wishing that it wasn't true, wishing that everything was a nightmare he could finally wake up from. But it wasn't. It was reality, and he had to face it.

"I…see," the Irishman mumbled, turning and leaning his head back against the wall.

They didn't talk any more. There was nothing left to say.

* * *

He _was_ sorry. He was so sorry that he'd rather die himself than submit his crewman to more pain. But the choice wasn't his. He could do absolutely nothing to save Bashir from whatever Telac was planning. Even if he had given his own life, there was nothing he could do right now.

The awareness brought no relief, though. Nothing was freeing him from the indescribable guilt he felt, the crushing weight of remorse.

He could only imagine what the last three months must have been like for Bashir. Crashed down on an unknown planet, captured and abused for maniacal aims, broken by a man trying to seize control over a considerable territory of space. And there had been no one to come for him. No one to help him endure the torment. Sisko could barely imagine what Julian must have felt when he had finally realized that he was on his own.

He could even feel it himself. Now, in the dark, lying on the side and waiting for recovery time to end. He could feel it – the creeping helplessness, his own mind making him doubt his resoluteness. And the loneliness. Yes, he could feel it – how Julian must have felt.

How long had he held on? How much pain had he endured before breaking under the merciless pressure? He didn't even dare imagine. Sisko knew Julian, knew his eagerness, his compassion, his sense for justice – and he knew that it had just made things worse. He had seen him in the end. There was not much left of the young, buoyant Julian he had once known, the man he still wanted back by all means.

He hated his position, hated having to give orders that were very likely to destroy another man's life.

But there was no choice. He was the captain. And he had to save as many lives as he could. Allowing Telac to finish his bomb, to actually destroy the wormhole was beyond discussion. He would do anything to stop this maniac, to save the link between the quadrants. To save the _Prophets_. But he was also very well aware of the silent anger that was starting to rise in his chest. An anger directed towards those who had led him here, who had given him enough hints to find Telac, find out what he intended to do. Who had send him to prevent the extinction of their kind…

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep that anger from clamoring in his chest.

Oh yes, they had led him here, shown him everything he had to know to save them. But the truth was, he had been used. He was the _Emissary_, a puppet of the prophets, and they had used him for their very own aims. Obviously they didn't care about his captivity, nor did they care that his orders, his conviction would finally destroy another man's life.

In that very moment he hated them with his whole heart, hated them with a wrath he had never imagined he would dare to bring up.

But the most stifling and suffocating truth of reality was, that he could do absolutely nothing to change their current situation. Nothing to avoid the unavoidable. He was captured in a flow of time when there was nothing he could do but watch. Watch and fear what the future held for them.

He had to follow his conviction, his principles – his _position _– even if it meant to lose Julian…

* * *

He didn't know how much time had passed when he was finally called to Telac again. It might have been hours, or even one or two days. He wasn't sure of it, had lost every sense of time in the arbitrarily arranged artificial environment – though it didn't even matter in the end.

Sisko was standing in the middle of the small room, its cool, unpleasant and oppressive atmosphere only furthering his inner uneasiness. He didn't even have to take a look around to know that it was the same room where he had first witnessed the encounter of Telac and Bashir…

"I suppose you've already made up your mind?"

Not reacting to the slippery voice that penetrated the stifling silence, he kept staring in front of him. A few seconds later, though, the other man was entering his view.

He looked fine. Almost happy. Their last conversation apparently hadn't had any too deep effect on Telac's egotism. Smiling his perfect smile, he was waiting for Sisko to answer, arms folded in front of his chest. Telac was taking him in with a penetrating gaze, making Sisko feel even more uneasy, though he tried to clamp down on his nervousness the best he could.

The captain inhaled deeply and braced himself against the squeamishness that came rushing over him like a wave engulfing around a drowning man. He had already played it through so many times in his mind. But still, standing now in front of his captor and telling him the decisive words came almost as an effort he was barely able to make.

"I have. And I'm sorry, but I'll have to refuse."

Telac nodded, ever smiling. A sadistic, self complacent smile it was, making Sisko wish to violently smash it with his fist. He held himself in, though, not willing to lose control in front of Telac's eyes. Instead he kept scowling at him, the only thing he could actually do in his present condition; where he felt very much like a will-less puppet on his captor's strings.

"Well, I can't say that I hadn't expected these words. But very well then, Captain. I've already warned you. In the end I'll have you talk, believe me."

Only a few seconds – and a short beckon by Telac – later, he was brought in.

He seemed proportionally all right, though Sisko knew that even if his outward appearance was fine, his inner one was not. He intently watched Julian being walked over and strapped to the wall, the young man's expression blank and his stare broken. He didn't even offer the merest resistance, though he involuntarily winced when his injured arm was roughly bent upward and fitted into the iron brackets. When the guards left, he didn't look up, just kept absently staring toward the floor in front of him. With his body so still and motionless, he barely seemed alive at all…

"Shall we begin?" Telac was facing Sisko again, rounding the captain as he cast a long look toward his second prisoner. "I need the specifications. As you know it's the last piece still missing in my perfect puzzle of a new world. If you could just tell me what I need to hear, I'll swear that I'll never bother you or your crewmen again."

When Sisko didn't give any response, Telac nodded – and only seconds later Sisko wished himself far, far away.

Julian's sudden cries were so heart-wrenching, so full of misery and hopelessness that Sisko was barely able to endure them. He didn't even have to look into the young man's face to know that he was almost past the verge. He would lose him. Writhing and tearing, Bashir struggled frantically to free himself, convulsing with pain as his mind was slowly pushed towards the abyss. Ever so slowly.

"That's enough," Sisko yelled, too incensed with rage himself. The words came sputtering out even before he was aware of them. "Make it stop!"

It didn't take another second and the cries subsided, turning instead into some sort of quiet sobbing. He could hear him unevenly gasp for air – and the sound almost made Sisko's stomach turn. He didn't look at Julian, couldn't endure the dead weight of guilt any longer.

"As you say, Captain. If you could just give me what I want, I swear, I'll give him back to you. I won't hurt him any more. Just give me what I need and he'll be safe."

Scowling at Telac, Sisko was barely able to hold back his emotions. His fists shook with rage as his chest filled with unspeakable hatred.

"He's not of any use for you any more. I suppose you had what you wanted. You dragged it out of him by force. So let him alone. I won't tell you the specifications and you know that. No one will. No matter how much you'll try to make me sway, I'll not help you. There's no need to make Julian suffer any longer," he shouted out, unable to control his own voice.

Telac's stare was icy and calculating, his vicious expression almost like a blow in Sisko's face. "There is, Captain. I don't think you got the whole point of all of this but somehow it doesn't even matter…"

"You're running out of time, Telac, and you know that," Sisko finally managed. He had to gain some time, had to involve Telac into conversation – give Julian enough time to re-gather some strength…

"Don't try to fool me. I know what you're alluding to. I hate to break it to you, but you're on your own. There'll be no one coming for you. No one will ever know you're here. Playing for time is senseless." He almost hissed the last word.

It was the way Telac spoke, his slowly growing anger and impatience so clearly perceivable beyond his dark eyes. He was feeling uneasy, no doubt to that. He was acting under pressure, no matter how much he tried to hide it. So Sisko's hope would probably come true. More than before he knew he had to keep Telac distracted, preventing him from hurting Julian even more. If he just knew it for sure, if Sisko just knew there was someone coming for them…

"Fine then…" Telac suddenly spat out. "Very fine. I've got other ways to get what I want."

Sisko wasn't sure he heard right. Startled about his unexpected change in demeanor, he tried to follow Telac's idea, though some voice deep within his heart already told him that those _other ways_ wouldn't be any better than what Telac was doing right now.

"You don't even have to try the same with Lieutenant Dax and Chief O'Brien. None of them will talk," Sisko hurriedly said, wanting to prevent his other crewman from getting involved.

Telac laughed out humorlessly. "I won't use your precious crewman, don't worry. The one I'm counting on is your doctor. Alas, you won't survive to know if I succeeded."

Feeling his heart skip a beat, Sisko glowered at him with open disdain. "What are you up to?"

"Your doctor has a very amazing mind. I'm not sure if you were aware of it but it's amazing indeed," Telac absently retorted, then suddenly meeting Sisko's eyes he added: "I wish it weren't, though. It would have spared me these petty problems."

"What have you done to him?" Sisko was nearly about to shout.

Telac seemed to muse his words over for a short moment, obviously thinking over if Sisko was worth being told the truth.

"I tried to drag out the information I was seeking. He didn't give it voluntarily so I had to make him give it to me. But somehow I failed." Telac shook his head again, a blank smile crossing his face. "I made him betray everything he believed in. I broke him. I made him realize that his life was worthless, that _I_ was owning his life. I almost had him tell me the data I needed. Almost. But then his mind shut down. I don't know how, but he suppressed what happened. He banished it out of his mind, shut every thought of his past life down. He just didn't remember. No matter how much I tried to get the information afterwards, he couldn't tell me. He simply couldn't remember anything of his past life. Not concerning Starfleet anyway."

"That's why he can't recall anyone of us…", Sisko whispered with sudden understanding under his breath. Pure bewilderment was filling his eyes.

"He was useless to my plans, the only way to obtain the data he had forgotten along with everything else, would have been to forcefully make him recall what happened. To bring it all back to his mind."

"But you couldn't have been sure if he wouldn't crack under the pressure. You would have risked losing him – and the data – forever…" Sisko concluded.

Despairingly he tore his gaze away, some part of him wishing that Telac was lying, that all his story was only another way to make him sway. But looking into the other man's unfathomable dark eyes, sparkling with some warped kind of amusement, Sisko unmistakably knew for sure that Telac was telling the truth.

"I didn't have another chance to wait. Some time he would finally remember," Telac said almost sadly, glancing back at Julian who still didn't dare move any more, the only thing preventing him from collapsing right in front of them the iron brackets that unyieldingly held him in a nearly upward position by his wrists. "But then you came… and made everything worse…"

Following Telac's gaze and spotting the sunken down figure, Sisko felt a painful twinge. "What are you going to do…?"

"Make him remember. By force, if I have to. I can't wait for you to come down to tell me what I need, so I'll take him."

And without another word, Telac turned, beckoning at the guards to fetch Sisko. He didn't oppose when he felt the firm grip around his upper arms, his mind desperately searching for a solution. For a loophole. Something to regain control over their situation.

But he bitterly had to realize that he was no longer in any position to influence the course of events. And probably he never really had been.

* * *

He was led into yet another room, larger than the previous – but apparently of the same use. They strapped him to one of the walls, then left without any further word. Not sure what was to come next, he closed his eyes, trying to regain some inner composure. Thinking of what Telac had said about Julian, he felt the bile rise in his throat. He could hardly imagine what the man was up to, how he would make Bashir recall events he had banished out of his mind in a last desperate attempt of self preservation. He only knew that it would destroy Julian. Even if the prior events hadn't, forcing him to remember what he had so frantically tried to forget would destroy what was left of him.

Abandoned to guilt and despair he didn't even take in further details of his surroundings, until the guards suddenly reappeared, bringing Lieutenant Dax and Chief O'Brien along. And John.

He suddenly noticed that he hadn't seen the young engineer since he had been called away to meet Telac the first time. He hadn't even remarked that he had been gone ever since Sisko had been brought back to the cell. Although John seemed all right, he didn't meet the captain's eyes, nor did he meet those of Dax or O'Brien.

Sisko couldn't even blame him – after all that had happened.

John had warned them. He had tried to do so ever since their first day in Velurin, ever since he had learned who they were and what part they had been playing in Julian's past life. But Sisko wouldn't have listened. No, he couldn't blame John for loathing them. He had every right to do so.

Glad for not having to endure John's reproachful gaze, though, he leaned his head back against the cool wall and tried to mentally brace himself for what was going to come.

He heard his crewman being strapped next to him and wondered why Telac needed all of them. He wasn't sure what role they would be given in his game, though he was all but eager to learn.

"What was that all about, Benjamin? What happened?" Dax whispered to his left, scowling at the guards who already stepped back, taking position next to the door. Not showing the slightest hint of having heard, they obviously ignored their tiny, meaningless conversation.

It took Sisko some time to answer, but then he reluctantly turned his head. "Telac is going to use Julian in getting the specifications he needs," he answered blankly and seeing her confused expression he slowly added: "After all I heard from Telac, Julian must have cracked under the pressure. He's closed his mind to everything that had happened before, forgot about his past life – and Starfleet as well. That's why he doesn't recall anyone of us. He's suppressed those memories and now Telac wants to force them back to his mind."

"He's doing what?"

It was John who suddenly interrupted their conversation, his face flushed with some vague emotion that hovered somewhere between anger and panic. Leaning forward the best he could with the iron brackets holding his wrists back beside his head, he excitedly eyed the two Starfleet officers.

"He can't do that. You've seen what happened when you tried to make Julian remember, Captain Sisko. You've seen his reaction back in the cell. He won't be able to cope with the memory. He'll break!"

"Don't tell me, John. I've seen him. But there is nothing we can do about it…"

John didn't have any opportunity to answer, when their conversation was suddenly interrupted. It was Telac, accompanied by Julian, who entered the room. He somehow seemed even more nervous than before, pushing Bashir roughly farther into the room, his grip around the young man's arm firm enough to force him to stay in an upward position while he finally directed his attention to Sisko.

"I already told you that I don't have time for your little games, Captain. I'll get the information and then I'll complete my work. It's a pity that it has to be this way…"

"Telac, wait!" Sisko suddenly shouted, a small hope flickering up in his mind. "What if you're failing. Do you want to risk losing your only opportunity to obtain the data by destroying Julian? What if his mind breaks? You'll win nothing and you'll lose the only trump you have. Are you really prepared to take such a risk?"

"Honestly, I don't care. I'll get what I want, either this or that way. It's just a matter of time but in the end I'll have either one of you talk. Believe me."

Telac instantaneously turned to Julian, producing a small dagger-shaped knife from somewhere behind. Bluntly he grabbed for Bashir's arm, pulling him closer towards the prisoners and with a serious and resolute expression, he presented him the knife.

"Listen to me, Julian, there is something I want you to do for me," he said, intently watching Bashir's reaction. Seconds elapsed until he finally voiced aloud his decisive order. "I want you to kill Sisko."

Not believing his own ears, O'Brien gasped for air. "Julian don't listen to him. He can't force you, you just have to hang on. Kira's already coming for rescue!"

O'Brien knew that it was a lie, even though he desperately wished it to be true. Nevertheless he had to attract Julian's attention, keep him from doing what Telac had said – dragging him back from the abyss Telac was pushing him towards. He could see Julian shake his head, his expression one of pure panic.

Having seemed apathetic and passive before, Bashir demeanor had changed in a split second, now only incredulous bewilderment filling his eyes.

"No… I… " the young man stammered incoherently, refusing to take what Telac was presenting him. He didn't have a choice though. Telac forced it in his right hand, closing his own around Julian's in an unyielding grip.

"You know what will happen, if you don't obey. You know it, don't you?" Telac gently whispered in the young man's ear, not letting go of his shaky hand.

No matter how unimportant or trivial Telac's words might have seemed to the others, Julian was paralyzed, staring wildly at the Starfleet officers in front of him. Frozen and with dilated eyes he stood ramrod stiff, apparently having been given the key to memories lost, long since…

Not able to move or speak, Bashir stood still in the middle of the room, though his horrified stare made Sisko involuntarily recall Telac's earlier words; that he wouldn't be alive to see if the experiment had succeeded.

"If you refuse to obey, the chief will be first to suffer the consequences."

And only a short moment later, one of the guards drew his weapon and directed it at O'Brien.

"I'm waiting, Julian."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

He was in shock. His mind flooded by memories long lost – long forgotten. Memories he desperately tried to shut out. Memories he feared and dreaded more than death itself.

But they were there.

Within seconds his vision shrank into a small quadrate – with Sisko in its middle.

His whole world was starting to revolve violently around him as his vision blurred and his mind exploded into a dizzy whirl of chaos. But still the man in his view's center remained steady, his glassy eyes stabbing through Julian's body like sharp daggers, making him feel nauseated and sick with guilt. He couldn't banish him out of his mind. No matter how hard he tried to push the memory away, no matter how much he struggled to fight the memory down, he couldn't. It came rushing over him, drowning him under its icy floods, dragging him ever farther downwards into the engulfing darkness of despair. Frantically trying to tear his gaze away, he wasn't able to shut his eyes from the horrific sight. He couldn't ignore the man. Neither the blood. So much blood, sticking to Sisko, sticking to the walls around him, pooling on the floor, tripling from Julian's very own hands.

And then there was Dax. Her once-beautiful face so utterly distorted with pain and bewilderment. Her hair sticking to her sweaty forehead, her mouth twisted with disbelief, praying to him to make everything undone.

He screamed, feeling his legs give way a moment before he hit the ground. Pressing both arms frantically around his head, he was writhing with pain and horror.

_Make it stop. Make it stop!_

But it didn't.

The young girl. The blonde young girl he had once sworn to protect. He had sworn to save her life. Dead. Lying in front of him, her throat cut with a single knife. He had betrayed her like he had betrayed everyone. Her long hair was forming patterns of death, making him realize everything he had tried to run away from. It all broke down upon him in a merciless flood, drowning him in its dark water, making him shake with disdain and abomination.

_Make it stop!_

He barely felt himself any longer, so lost was he to the overwhelming terror and the concomitant guilt. But then a cruel and cold voice cut through his dizzy mind, like Julian's knife once had forced its way through Sisko's innocent flesh.

"I'll count till three, then he'll die."

_No. No. No. No._

No more murder! When there was one thing he was capable of grasping it was that he wouldn't any more people to die because of his own miserable life. He would do anything, anything to prevent further murder. Anything to stop them from hurting him. He didn't want to suffer any pain any longer. He wanted it to stop. He would do anything to just make it stop!

On the verge of bursting into desperate tears, he bluntly grabbed for the knife's hilt, scrambling and struggling up with his last strength. His vision blurred, though he had already made up his mind.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Julian!" It was not so much the fear for his own life than that for the young doctor's, that made O'Brien act before it was too late. "Don't listen to him, Julian! If you don't give him the data, he won't…" He suddenly relapsed into silence when the phaser rifle's barrel forcefully hit his skull. Immediately he collapsed.

"Telac, stop it!"

Sisko tried in vain to free himself, making the iron brackets cut painfully into his wrists, though he didn't care. He didn't know what Telac had done to Julian, but the young man was hovering on the verge of madness. Gripping tightly the short knife, Sisko could see the unnatural effort it took Bashir to will himself to move.

When he was level with Sisko, their eyes met. And Sisko winced at the emptiness he saw. Julian's expression was beyond rationality, leaving no doubt to it any longer. Sisko was looking into the eyes of a broken man…

"I'm… sorry…" Bashir brought forth, almost choking on the words.

"Julian, it's me, Benjamin Sisko. I'll get you out of here. You'll be safe. Please, Julian, take away that knife."

He knew that it was one of the worst things he could have said to Bashir. He was begging for his life.

"I... can't," Julian cried, shaking his head ever so slightly. His voice was barely above a whisper now. "He won't let me. He'll kill more people. I… don't want any more people to die…"

Carefully he raised his hand, placing the point of the knife on Sisko's breast. His hands were so shaky he barely was able to hold it in the right position. With closed eyes, Julian clutched the hilt with a white-knuckled grip, though something still held him back.

"That's enough, Julian."

The disruptor bolt shot across the room, making Julian head involuntarily jerk up – and subsequently he lost hold of the knife when he saw the yellow streak squarely hitting O'Brien's chest, making the chief's already unconscious body convulse under the heavy impact.

"No… I… I just…" Bashir stammered, but was interrupted by Telac's firm voice.

"No more delay or John is the next one."

Not able to pick up the knife again, Julian could do nothing but stare at his friend's lifeless corps. He had killed O'Brien. Julian had killed his best friend like he had killed everyone else. Paralyzed by the thought he couldn't move. He tried to, but he couldn't. Still staring in terror at the cruel sight, Julian seemed on the brink of physical and psychological breakdown.

"Julian!" Telac harshly admonished, already walking with wide steps over to the unmoving young man – and all at once and without forewarn, he lost his footing like everyone else did, stumbling for hold as the lights flickered and vanished only second later. Instantaneously, the ground heaved and trembled, and from above small trickles of sand and plaster came rushing down as the loud thump above shook the small, subterranean room.

When the backup system abruptly churned to life, the room was bathed in a dull red glow, casting ghostly shadows on their ashen faces, while the ground continued to shake with the increasing thunder that resounded muffled, with the stone walls around. Staggering to his feet, Telac somehow managed, not to be thrown off his feet again. Briskly brushing away the dust and filth he instinctively looked upward – though he could see nothing but the dark, red-tinged ceiling.

"What's going on?" he shouted and with enough presence of mind he managed to run over to the comlink and punch in commands. Only a moment later, one of the guards made it up as well.

"Sir, this is Mehel, we've been fired upon. You better come up here as soon as possible," another voice over the comlink cried out, roughly interrupted by another blast that seemed to have occurred not far away from their present position.

"Fired upon? What the hell is going on here?" Telac's voice was tinted with fear, his eyes wide with bewilderment. Spinning around he raced through the door, followed by the two guards who didn't even cast a last look around as they abandoned their prisoners to whatever fate would await them if the destruction continued to be so severe.

"Kira?" Dax hopefully raised her voice over the din, trying to keep her footing as best she could on the heavily shaking earth.

"If it's really Major Kira, her timing couldn't be better," Sisko replied, ducking his head when another trickle of sand dropped from the ceiling. "I can't imagine any other person who should have a reason for attacking Telac's lab, though whoever it is, we owe him or her more than our gratitude."

When another bolt hit some hundreds of meters above, a whole part of the ceiling caved in, though by mere luck, no one was hurt.

Turning his head, Sisko saw Julian, still kneeling where he had gone down to the ground. His shoulders hunched and both arms clutched around his abdomen, he didn't even seem aware of what was happening. He just kept staring at O'Brien's corpse.

"Julian," Sisko gently tried. If he could induce Julian to free them, they would have a much better chance than to wait in this damaged room for either somebody to come for their rescue – or for the rest of the ceiling to cave in and bury them under a lethal layer of rubble. But what was urging him the most to gain Julian's attention was his worry that they had to take care of Bashir as fast as possible and help him through the trauma Telac's action had caused with him.

"Julian!" he tried, this time more vigorously.

The young man immediately jerked up, and fell backwards as he was all at once hauled back into reality. Reaching out to catch himself, he let out a sudden cry as his broken arm couldn't sustain his body's weight, though he didn't waste any more time on his injured arm. Precipitantly he scrambled to his feet again and when he somehow managed to draw himself up – even against the still unsteady ground – he whirled around and instantaneously broke into a run. Almost crashing against the wall behind the open door, Julian didn't even look back as he vanished out of their sight.

"Julian!" Sisko called behind him, though the young man was already out of earshot.

"Julian, wait! It's the Defiant! JULIAN!"


	7. Chapter 6

**"Hidden Memories" - Chapter 6**

_"Kira to Worf." _

Slinging the phaser rifle over his right shoulder and indicating the five members of the away team to move on to the transporter platform, the Klingon almost immediately tapped his own combadge at the sound of Kira's strained voice. Even over the comlink the tint of concern it was carrying was clearly audible, the low activity of the bridge filtering in behind it and underlining Kira's seriousness.

"Worf here, go ahead, Major."

_"I'll beam you down to a small break in the woods. About one hundred meters west of your position you'll find an entrance to the subterranean tunnel system. I'm sorry, I won't be able to beam you directly into that system. A radiation scrambler is marring our directional sensors in a way that's too risky to just have a try. You'd probably wind up stuck in a wall – or floor if we don't get the coordinates right."_

"Aye, Sir," the Klingon snorted tersely, not very keen on becoming part of the planet. "So we'll force our way inside then."

_"According to our sensor reading, three humans are situated about five hundred meters from your position. Another one about three hundred farther to the west. You'll have to bring them out to the surface, because we won't be able to beam you out from there, either."_

"Understood," Worf simply said, waiting for the last crewman to take position on the transporter pad, before he motioned over and worked the controls to send them down to their designated landing coordinates.

_"The central authority is still not answering our hails. It somehow seems as if we're not welcome here any longer. Just be prepared to meet some resistance down there."_

"How many are there?"

_"We can't get accurate readouts though the computer shows no more than about fifteen life-signs in the designated area, including the four human life-signs. Concerning how well-shielded it is against our scanners I take it the whole place must be some sort of secret base, therefore probably not even equipped with too much staff."_

"What about the defense system?"

_"We eliminated the last canon about four hundred meters away from your landing coordinates. That should also have taken out any farther security shields around. The area should be safe now, don't worry."_

Worf bit back a snarl. "I never did, Major. Worf out."

Hurrying over to the transporter landing himself, he didn't have to wait long for the familiar tingle when his vision suddenly blurred, straightening itself as his molecules coalesced into shape again and the transporter effect left him. As Kira had said, they had beamed down in a small break in the wood, the warm and bright sunlight filtering in from above through the huge gab in the forest's thick layer of leaves. Casting a swift look around, he spotted the other members of the small away team waiting in some distance. Without hesitating too long he made his way toward them, beckoning at them to follow his tracks as he forced his way through the savage undergrowth.

They didn't even have to look for the entrance too long.

It was shaped like some sort of a cave entrance, overgrown with brushwood but clearly visible to the bare eye. Casting another swift but intent look around, Worf couldn't see anything abnormal, though he knew very well from experience that a worrier was not to be deluded by the obvious. He once more checked the settings of his weapon and told his team to do likewise.

"Setting to stun. If you encounter any resistance on your way, just stun them. We'll take care of them later. Our most important mission is to find Captain Sisko, Lieutenant Dax and Chief O'Brien. As soon as anybody finds them, let the rest of the team know. Any questions?"

When no reply came and his other five crewman just nodded, Worf couldn't help a subdued smile. Turning toward the black and impenetrable entrance of the cave, he switched on his own beacon and directed its light toward the darkness that lay ahead.

"Then let's go."

With his phaser rifle clutched to his chest and the arm that held his beacon pointed in front of him, the Klingon dashed into the unfamiliar blackness before him, followed by the rest of the away team.

After only a few minutes they reached the first intersection, its two branches angling off to both sides. Flicking open his tricorder, Worf didn't have to hesitate too long before he finally chose the right branch, ever following the tricorder readouts. Beaming might have been too great a risk but still they had their tricorders – and that was everything Worf needed to find his way through the maze-like subterranean tunnel system.

"Sir!"

The sudden call from behind, made him involuntarily spin around – just in time to toss himself backwards against the tunnel's sidewall and escape the bright yellow energy streak that shot only half a meter from his breast through the darkness. The crewman who had given the alarm had obviously not been as lucky for with another stifled cry he went down – shot by a streak of light from behind.

Without hesitation Worf drew his own rifle, aiming backwards as he pressed himself against the wall; as if he wanted to coalesce with it. With only a few shots he had taken the enemy out, calling for his team to move on before he ran himself back towards the fallen crewman. Swiftly flicking over the tricorder readings, he realized that the man wasn't dead but stunned for the time being. Snorting, he caught up with the rest of the team as he decided to take care of the residual man on their way back to the surface.

"Watch your way! And watch your back!" Worf admonished once more before he took the lead again and forced his way farther down. To his surprise the previous attack remained an exception for they weren't hindered a second time. The further they made it into the maze-like tunnel system, the better the illumination became – even if it consisted only of the dull red glow of the emergency lightning, casting long purple shadows over the sinister scenery.

Dust hung everywhere in the air – an air far too stifled and stale that he was eager to not spend more time in here than necessary. Checking his tricorder once more, he realized with annoyance, that something was interfering with the tricorder's sensor sweeps, marring the readouts to high degree. Tapping a short sequence into the small device, he had to suppress the urge to forcefully toss it to the ground: Something was interfering with their sensors, cutting the tricorder's former range down to hardly more than a range of twenty meters. Snorting again, he inhaled deliberately, letting go of his anger. Most likely it was just another kind of defense system, obviously designed for giving any intruders another difficult time of finding their way around.

"The tricorder's sensor range is being marred," he briefly announced. "From now on, we'll split, every group covering one designated area. We'll stay in steady contact. As soon as one of the two teams finds them, they let the others know."

Waiting for the short nod indicating that everybody understood their mission's new turn, Worf directed his beacon again in front of him. Dividing their force meant greater vulnerability. But at the same time they had already learnt that the complex was staffed with only a minimum amount of personnel; increasing the chance of finding their missing crewman in shorter time; thus outweighing the risk of getting involved into any unexpected resistance.

"Then let's not waste any more time."

He didn't even wait for the other team to separate, as he dashed forward into the unknown territory, holding his tricorder in front of him, ready to react to the slightest hint the small device would grant him. After a few more intersections they were finally getting somewhere.

Gray metal doors were lining a small corridor in front of them, the ground littered with small parts of the ceiling that had obviously come rushing down only some time ago, most likely when the Defiant had taken out the security emitters that had been securing the area before. He cautiously stepped over the rubble and beckoned his team to follow.

When the high-pitched sound of the tricorder started, he instinctively knew that they were almost there. Four life-sings appeared on the reading only a few meters away, most likely around one of the next corners.

Bringing the weapon in position, he took a deep breath, before he finally rounded the corner, his phaser rifle pointed protectively in front of him.

"Worf!"

Realizing that the tricorder readings had proven to be true, the Klingon lowered his weapon, his expression serious and resolute, though he shortly nodded in acknowledgment. They had actually found the Captain.

"Lieutenant Worf, it's really you!" Dax exclaimed incredulously.

It took him only a few seconds to take in the situation, before he moved forward, slung the rifle over his right shoulder and began untying them, the other members of the small away team doing likewise. Within a minute, everyone was rubbing his or her hands from the unnatural position they had been held in, though nobody had been seriously injured.

Almost at once, Dax was rushing towards the sunken down figure of Chief O'Brien, grabbing quickly for the tricorder a security woman offered her. She flung it open, intently taking in its readings, but finally let our her breath.

"How is he?" Sisko worriedly asked her as he stepped to the side of the young Trill.

Slowly shaking her head, Dax even managed a smile. "He's only stunned. The disruptor bolt wasn't set to kill but I'd say the chief will be taken out for some hours all the same."

"At least that's good news. Take care of him. As soon as were on board the Defiant he'll get proper medical treatment."

Drawing himself up, Sisko smoothed his uniform, turning towards the newcomers.

"Mr. Worf, I can't tell you how good it is to see you," he said in firm voice, nodding towards the away team. "I can say that your timing couldn't be better."

Throwing a short look toward the door, Worf nodded. "We're having trouble with the central authority of Felan III. Defiant is orbiting the planet at the command of Major Kira. When the government wouldn't cooperate, the major decided to bring you back on our own."

"That sounds like Kira," Dax smiled genuinely, though her expression became almost instantaneously serious again. When she saw Worf eying suspiciously the young blond engineer, she quickly added: "That's John. He's one of us."

"I see," the Klingon grumbled, "Nevertheless we should hurry to get you out of here. Major Kira said she had taken out all the land canons surrounding the area but still I wouldn't want to risk encountering too many enemies with so few supplies. As we won't be able to beam out immediately we have to get back to the surface and the landing coordinates."

"Then we shouldn't waste any more time," Ensign Taira stated as she clutched both hands firmly around the rifle, already about to leave.

"Wait!" John interrupted. "What about Julian? We can't leave him here."

Turning to face the young man, Sisko shortly nodded. "Mr. Worf, can you get another human bio signature?"

"I'm sorry, Sir. Interferences are cutting down our sensor range to only twenty meters. I can't get any reading for beyond that purview."

John seemed to grow excited. "And that means?"

Slowly hesitating, Sisko reached for the tricorder himself. "You said, beaming out is impossible?"

"I'm sorry, Sir. Radiation scramblers are marring the directional sensors. We won't get a lock on anything or anybody within this area of subterranean territory. That is why my task is to find you and bring you back to the landing coordinates."

"So we'll have to track Julian down and bring him to the surface as well," Dax said.

"With all due respect, you should get to Defiant as fast as possible. This conflict is very likely to escalate," Worf interrupted.

"But we can't leave Julian behind!" John protested vehemently. "Not in his present condition anyway!"

"I know. And I won't leave him behind," Sisko replied, trying to find an acceptable solution. He was very well aware of the situation's urgency, but he also knew that Bashir's present condition was nothing he could make light of.

"For the moment, catching Telac and getting control of the situation is top priority. Now that Telac has no chance to realize his plans any more, we have to ensure that Telac will get the punishment he deserves. If we wait too long we'll risk losing him for he will most likely go into hiding and if he does that we'll have a difficult time tracking him down. Now we still can stop him, but we have to act quickly."

"That means, you'll leave him here?" John was not sure he heard right.

"We don't even know where he is. He could be anywhere. Without an exact localization we'd just waste our time. This tunnels system is far too large to try at mere luck to find him, even if the tricorders still have a range of twenty meters. As soon as we get back to Defiant we can destroy the shield generator and get a proper lock on Julian. It's our only chance."

Sisko knew that his decision was all but well-considered. He knew that leaving Bashir to himself was the worst thing he could do, but still he didn't dispose of the means and the supplies to track him down in this unknown territory. Once more he was forced to make a decision that placed the needs of many, over the needs of one man. Turning to John, he tried to show a resoluteness and certainty that he didn't feel.

"We'll find him. And then we'll bring him home." And addressing all members of the away team, he added in an afterthought. "Let's get out of here. The sooner we make it back to the ship the sooner we can put an end to this madness."

* * *

"How did you know?" he quickly asked, leaving the turbolift as he started to somewhat relax at the familiarity that lay in front of him. Kira caught up in time to let him hear some sort of contempt snort. He had been glad to see her, but more so to be back in command – in control of the situation-, though the last hours were still casting their murky shadow on him.

Settling himself into his chair, Sisko got a glimpse of Dax already sitting at tactical and with a subtle nod toward the young Trill he turned to Kira.

"Let's call it some intuition," she cut it short, her tone indicating the same urgency he felt himself. They would talk later. For now it was just good to know that she had come in time.

"Dax, open a channel to the central authority of Felan III."

Only seconds later the curved, green outline of the planet below was replaced by the image of a man with short gray hair, his leathery old face drawn into an ugly grimace.

"Captain Sisko. What is this all about. I want you to explain why you opened fire on our world!"

Sisko struggled hard to keep his temper. Taking a deep breath and fighting down the urge to shout at his interlocutor, he tried to keep his voice as calm as he could.

"I could ask you the same, Mr. Hradly. Why didn't you react to any efforts Major Kira took to hail you? And why did your military threaten – and even attack - this ship in the first place?"

Even before the older man could form a reply, Sisko was already speaking up again, his cool and piercing voice reverberating in the silence that had laid itself over the small bridge. "You knew about Telac's plans to destroy the wormhole, didn't you?"

He could hear Kira gasp for air, but ignored her. His attention was exclusively focused on the man's furious image hovering on the viewscreen in front of the bridge's personnel.

Obviously speechless, it took some seconds for his interlocutor to answer.

"I don't know what you are talking about, Captain," he said tersely, glowering at them with an expression of open indignation.

"Then I'll help you remember, Mr. Hradly." Sisko's voice was icy as he rose from his chair and stepped farther towards the screen. "Some time ago we had a short little conversation about a missing crewman - Dr. Bashir, if you recall his name. Well, how should I say; we've found him. Alive. And abducted by Telac, one of your scientists who is planning to destroy the passage to the Alpha Quadrant…" He let the rest of the sentence taper off, though the effect on Mr. Hradly remained the same.

He turned pale, even more speechless than before, his mind obviously calculating how far he could believe what Sisko was telling him – calculating how much Sisko seemed to know. Hradly knew about the whole affair. It was hard not to see his great effort to find a way out as he had to learn that something must have gone utterly wrong. To find a way around having to admit it, to keep the damage to a minimum now that his intentions were likely to be revealed against his will.

"I just want you to know that you won't get away with it. Starfleet will conduct an official inquiry, concluding with the fact that Felan III evidently planned an aggressive act towards the United Federation of Planets. I don't think you or your government can imagine the consequences such a judgment will have."

Hradly was struggling for words, though he tried to keep his facadethe best he could.

"You haven't got any proof, Captain. How can you know for sure that Mr. Telac didn't act on his own? I can assure you that the central authority was never informed about his plans. Destroying the wormhole," Hradly laughed out loud, just if to underline the ridiculousness of such a venture, then became serious again. "You don't seriously think our government would have let itself in for such a wild-goose chase. But of course we'll have an inquiry started on this issue. If there was any plan for an terrorist attack, I promise, we'll do everything in our power to expose the truth."

"That's the least thing you can do. But what about Telac? I want him in custody until a Federation council can deal with the whole affair. I expect you to take every measure necessary to ensure that neither Telac nor one of his companions will avoid the consequences of their actions."

At least now Hradly seemed to regain some former confidence as he nodded grimly. "As you wish, Captain."

"There is a secret subterranean near the city of Velurin…" Sisko started, but let the sentence taper off for he almost knew for sure that Hradly already disposed of every information to comply with his orders.

"I see," the elder man nodded briefly, then turned to another person outside the camera range, obviously giving orders to some personnel not displayed on the viewscreen. "Il promise to see to it that Mr. Telac is held liable for your accusation. We'll get into touch with you as soon as we have any news."

Sisko stemmed both hands to his haunches, his expression absolutely blank. "I'll be waiting for the results then. Defiant will stay in orbit until further details are known."

With a short nod, Mr. Hradly's image suddenly vanished, leaving behind a blank, black screen.

"He's lying."

When Sisko turned around to face the young Trill, she seemed tired and resigned, shaking her head as she still couldn't tear her gaze away from where Hradly's image had been displayed only moments before.

"I know, Old Man," he sighed heavily, feeling all at once drained and tired, "but there is nothing we can do right now. Mr. Hradly, as well as the central authority of Felan III won't be so shortsighted as to not see what a possible accusation by Starfleet will do to them. They'll most likely try to hush it down, make Starfleet believe that Telac acted on his own. In the end, Starfleet will probably clear the central authority from charge, Felan III will keep its status and everything will seem the solitary work of a mad, patriotic scientist."

He saw Dax casting her gaze towards the floor, knowing exactly how she felt in the face of such political intrigue.

"But we still have evidence of what happened," the young Trill said in low voice, lifting her head and watching Sisko with sad eyes.

The captain nodded, a silent consent. "I'll immediately contact Starfleet Command. Perhaps we still have a chance to get the right ones to court. At least we have Hradly's word that he'll take care of Telac. But for everything else, we can only wait."

"What happened?"

It was Kira who now stepped next to the captain, still confused about what she had just witnessed, though that couldn't keep her from feeling her own anger deep within her chest.

"It's a long story, Major, but I'll tell you afterwards. Dax," and he was addressing the young Trill again. "Can you get a proper transporter lock on him?"

He didn't even have to mention Julian's name. Thinking back of the moment of their separation, Sisko couldn't help feel guilty about having left Bashir on the planet. But he hadn't had any time to go and search for the panicking young man when the new situation had required his immediate attention.

However, having forgotten about Julian – even the short time it had been – made him feel even more guilty.

"If we order main power to the whole complex shut down, I'll be most likely able to beam him out…" Dax suggested, already issuing an analogical request to the central authority's government. When her fingers finally came to a rest, though, she swivelled around in her chair.

"But still, I… don't think that's a good idea, Benjamin. He's already traumatized and if we get him off like this in his present condition –" She didn't even need finish the sentence, when Sisko already agreed with her worries.

"Do you think you can handle him?"

Reluctantly the young Trill nodded. "I think it's the best to keep the away team to a minimum. With your permission, I'd like to take John along. He knows Julian and he'll perhaps be able to help."

She didn't even need to mention the other thing either – and Sisko was glad for it. No, he wouldn't go along. Still worrying about the variable he himself had held in Telac's equation, Sisko felt the subtle shiver run down his spine, though he tried not to let it show in front of his crew. He had seen how incalculably Bashir had reacted every time he had been confronted with Sisko. In his present condition, going along and accompanying the away team would just make things worse, even if he was worried about his crewman's health more than everyone else. He would deal with the affair, and Julian for this, later – on the station, when this here was over…

Turning to the young Trill again, he sighed.

"Then good luck. Bring him back home, Old Man."

* * *

The deeper they made it into the maze of tunnels and intersections, the more the actual destruction became visible. Whole parts of the ceiling had caved in, but by mere luck nobody had seriously been injured. Electricity was down and even with the emergency lights still on, it was hard to discern the many sharp obstacles that lay scattered across the obscured floors.

It was a somehow oppressive atmosphere.

Slowly intruding the twilight of dust, dimness and the dull glow of emergency lightning, she let her meager light, originating from the beacon strapped around her wrist, float over the ground's uneven surface. Somehow she was feeling anxious and uncomfortable, not at all sure what to expect. Deciding to keep her hope to a minimum, she let out a silent breath she hadn't been aware she had been holding.

"Here it is."

Looking carefully back over her shoulder, she saw John's gloomy figure a few feet behind. He had come to a halt and flung open his tricorder, intently scanning the environment once more. The many yellow and red lights blinked in regular intervals. Cautiously avoiding tripping over one sizeable part of the ceiling, she caught up to him and suspiciously eyed the door in front them.

"There's one life-sign in there," John whispered.

She didn't know why he was speaking in such a low-pitched voice, but somehow he was right. The whole atmosphere deep down in the deserted and damaged tunnels of Telac's territory was depressing. She took a deep breath and directed her beacon in front of them, revealing a closed metal door.

"With the main power down, we'll have a difficult time to get the door open…" the young Trill broke the silence.

_It had been some time since she had last seen him…_

"Then we'll try manually. Let's go," John sighed, closing and pocketing the tricorder. Trying with all his force to drag the door open, he had to realize that it was easier said than done. Only with Jadzia's help they managed, pulling it open far enough for them to squeeze through the slender gap.

_Some kind of storage room_, she thought, casting her light over the many stacks and cabinets that were lining the wall to her right. In this place, too, some parts of the ceiling had come down, though the destruction was far less heavy than in the corridors they had walked through earlier.

"Julian?" Her voice was mild and quiet, but still it came with an remarkable echo. Letting her beacon glide across the floor, she stepped farther into the dimly lit room.

No answer.

"Julian, it's us. Jadzia and John."

He had to be somewhere in here. She had seen the bio reading. As far as she could assess there was no other entry to the little storage room, so he couldn't be that far. When her light suddenly hit his leg, though, she unmistakably knew that they had finally found him. Letting her beacon wander up the left of his side, she immediately stepped closer.

"Julian, we've been searching for you."

Her words came out awkwardly, and she worried that perhaps they didn't sound as sincere as they were meant to be, but she clamped down on the indefinite feeling of uneasiness that was filling her with every elapsing second. Cautiously she kneeled down, her beacon pointed just far away to his left side to still give enough light to discern his dark figure in the blackness around without blinding him with its unnatural brightness.

As far as she could see, he was sitting huddled up in the corner, his knees drawn to his chest and his hands clutching something against his breast she couldn't make out what it was. He didn't move, though. If it weren't for the barely noticeable rise of his shoulders, she wouldn't have known that he was alive at all…

She didn't even look up when she heard muffled footfalls behind her. Easing himself next to the young Trill, John was slowly squatting down.

"Julian, can you hear me?" John's words carried a lenient and sympathetic tint as he gently lay a warm and reassuring palm on Bashir's leg, though the young man winced as if being slapped.

"I… didn't do anything…", Julian pleaded in a slurred voice, not even lifting his gaze or meeting their eyes. He was crying. Jadzia could see the tears running down his ashen cheeks as he futilely tried to keep them back.

"Julian, look at me, it's me, John." Not nearing or making any other attempt of touching Julian, the young engineer's voice grew persistent.

"No… let me alone… let me alone…" Bashir sobbed feebly, breaking the all surrounding, stifling silence as he shook his head in short staccato movements.

"Julian, we're here to help you. Please, look at me," John tried again, knowing that he had to make Julian realize where he was, who _they_ were. After all, Julian now had his memory back – and John was all but sure if the young man could handle it. He apparently was still in shock due to what had happened only an hour ago. And John couldn't even blame Julian for his mental collapse. If he had been in his place, if it had been he who had suffered the young doctor's experiences and had now been forced to relive the whole nightmare of his ordeal – well, he couldn't say for sure that he would still be there to have a conversation with anyway…

"I… killed Sisko… and Jadzia… and the girl…… and Miles..." Julian's head weakly dropped down to his chest. "I… killed them," he stammered, unevenly gasping for air.

Not sure what he was actually talking about, Jadzia decided to chalk it up to the enormous mental stress he was suffering. He had been tortured after all. She couldn't estimate his psychological condition yet, but it could as well be that he was hallucinating, or imagining things – confusing reality. She didn't know what Julian meant with having killed them, but they had enough time to learn later – as soon as they were back on board of the Defiant and she was seeing to it that he got proper medical care.

"But I'm here, Julian. You didn't kill me. I'm here, you see?" she offered sympathetically, trying to reassure him.

He didn't listen.

"Please… don't hurt me…" he pleaded, his trembling and distressed voice almost tearing up her heart. Never before had she seen him so haggard, so vulnerable – so hurt and pained. He desperately clutched that thing in his hand – and suddenly she realized what it was, and the realization send a cold shiver down her spine. She had experienced too much in her seven lifetimes not to know that her next action was decisive.

All at once serious and trying to lend her voice enough determination, she directly faced Bashir. "Julian, give me the phaser. It's ok now, you're safe."

Her hand didn't even make it any near his knees, when Julian abruptly cocked up to his head, crouching even more into the dark corner, pure horror sparkling from his dilated eyes. "NO!"

Not wanting – and not willing – to lose him any farther, she once more tried to sooth him: "He's gone. Telac is gone. You're safe, Julian. He'll never touch you again, I promise. We're here to bring you home."

Bashir looked at her, his eyes clouded with tears – the look on his pallid face so wistful but still of terrifying awareness. "I can't go back…" he finally managed under his breath.

He really wanted to go back. Back to his old life. Back to warmth and security. Back to his friends. How he had longed for this day to come. How he had wanted to go home, to leave everything behind, to leave fear, darkness and despair… But he just couldn't. Not after what he had done. All those hopes and dreams had once belonged to Julian Bashir – the righteous man, the passionate doctor, who had died along with everyone else a long time since. They weren't his hopes any more. Nor were they his dreams. He would never be able to go back…

The realization was so terrifying but still so obvious. How much had he struggled against the merciless current of life, against what fate had preserved for him. And for a short second, for a tiny, puny moment he had thought he had escaped destiny. But the truth was, he never had. And the realization hit harder now than it had ever before. No, he wouldn't go home, for it wasn't his home any longer. Like Telac had said so many times, he didn't even deserve it. With no way back, there was just one alternative left.

"I murdered Sisko, Dax, O'Brien and the girl. It was real! I'd done anything he'd asked me to," Julian tumbled out without thinking. He didn't want to think back of the moment. He had tried to forget...

Not accepting his confession, Dax tried once again to reach out for the phaser. "That's not true, Julian. I'm still alive. And so are Captain Sisko and Chief O'Brien. We're still alive. You didn't kill anybody. If you just let me show you. Please let me show you the truth, Julian."

And even while she was about to keep him from hurting himself, she somehow started to understand. Why he was talking about having killed them, why he would rather commit suicide than let himself brought back home. She knew it wasn't true, that no one had ever been harmed lethally, and she knew that even O'Brien was still alive, no matter what it may have looked like in the other room.

_She_ knew. But obviously _Julian_ didn't.

He really seemed to believe in what he was saying, suffering from the consciousness that he committed murder. She couldn't even imagine what Telac must have played with him, how he had managed to manipulate Julian's sense of reality and turn his own will against himself. She had to tell him the truth, make him realize that all he had experienced was not reality but a perverse nightmare created by Telac. But still – she wouldn't have any opportunity to do so if she couldn't prevent Julian from making yet another nightmare into reality. Placing one hand softly on his shoulder she gently but deliberately grabbed for the weapon.

"Don't touch me!"

Startled by his unexpected and vehement reaction, she instinctively pulled back a few inches, though the young man was already rolling over to one side, about to scramble to his feet. It all happened so fast it took her a second to actually catch up with the new situation.

Bashir was hastily teetering to his feet, though he didn't make it up far, when he was already seized by John from behind before he could draw himself up completely. Gripping both his arms and trying to bring them into a firm hold behind Julian's back, the young engineer struggled hard to keep Bashir from any further action.

"Jadzia!"

And in that very instant, Dax knew what to do. With John fighting Julian's resistance back, Jadzia was finally able to pull away the barrel of the loaded phaser – in time. The bright yellow streak shot through the dimness with an ugly hiss, burning a black hole in the opposite wall. Startled but fully aware, she somehow managed to tear the weapon from his desperate grip before he got any chance to fire again. She hadn't figured he'd actually chosen a lethal setting…

"Julian!"

He still tried to fight off John and didn't react to her calls. Julian's free leg violently hit the young engineer's shin, making him curse and stumble – and with Julian flailing out ever so wildly, he lost the rest of his footing, tumbled backwards and involuntarily dragged Bashir with him to the ground. The sudden impact knocked the air out of John's lungs, making him reflexively let go of Julian's arm as he instinctively gasped for air. Bashir didn't even hesitate a single moment and frantically rolled over to the side, crawling on all fours even farther away until he was too far for John to reach.

Not able to tear his gaze from the blond engineer, Julian once more tried to staggered to his feet – and was all at once whirled around by his shoulder and simultaneously thrust backwards again. When Bashir hit the ground, Jadzia didn't even give him enough time to recover from her sudden and unexpected move as she tightly gripped his wrists, pressed them over his head to the floor and thus prevented him from crawling up again. Too busy with John he hadn't seen her. Jadzia had caught the ball on the bounce.

"Let me go!" he screamed frantically.

"Julian! It's ok! I won't hurt you, it's over! Please, we just want to help you."

Writhing and squirming, Bashir dredged up every shred of strength he could still put forth in a last desperate attempt to free himself. No matter how weakened his condition was, Jadzia was barely able to keep him in check, knowing that she wouldn't be able to hold him to the ground much longer. He obviously was beyond reason.

"Let me go! Let me go!"

Wriggling and tearing against her firm grip and her body's weigh that was pushing him onto the floor, he even managed to get one arm free – oddly enough, it was his wounded one, though Bashir didn't seem to care in that very moment, trying to lash out at her with all his strength. His fingers didn't even brush her skin, when she already had caught his arm in mid-strike.

"Julian! It's me, Jadzia!"

Throwing his head from one side to the other, the young man just didn't react to her calls.

She scolded herself for having been so shortsighted as not to bring a med kit along. She didn't want to hurt him, though she didn't know how to make him calm down in his present condition either. If she had just brought along some sort of sedative…

When John finally came for support, he stemmed both hands on Julian's trembling shoulders, pushing him back as he didn't know what else to do.

"Julian! Julian! You're safe, we won't hurt you!" the young engineer tried to get through to Bashir, though in vain.

"Let me go!" Julian screamed with cracking voice, his face contorted with unnatural effort, as he brought forth his last strength to fight against their overwhelming superiority. His body was still convulsing spasmodically, giving them a difficult time to keep him in his present position.

"You're safe, Julian!"

"No!"

"Julian!"

"Let me go!" he yelled, gasping involuntarily for air as a barely suppressed sob escaped his sore throat. "Let… let me… let me…"

The last words came tumbling out barely audible, though, as his voice grew all at once feeble and weak, his body starting to rapidly lose the heated fire that had only moments ago been clamoring in his chest. Apparently realizing – even through his clouded mind - that he stood no chance of overcoming them or free himself, Julian's last desperate rush to fight them off was all at once drowned by indescribable despair. His face drawn into a grimace of pain and fear, his resistance grew less and less vehement until it finally vanished almost completely. He still tried to drag his wrists from under Jadzia's grip though the futile attempts were nothing more than helpless suffering in the face of defeat. Shutting his eyes against his utter defenselessness, he let his head drop to the side.

It was in that instant, that she realized that he was crying. Not facing anyone of them and with his eyes shut against the reality he had so desperately tried to flee from, he was sobbing with despair and torment, making her involuntarily release her firm grip around his wrists. Even John pulled back a few inches, perplexed at the sudden change in the young man's demeanor. No longer held back, Julian almost immediately curled up, clutching both arms tightly around his abdomen, audibly gasping for air as his whole body shook with emotions he had too long tried to suppress. He no longer cared that they were there; letting go of all the despair; all the fear and horror he had tried to hold in for too long. Collapsing under the pressure of a world that had been twisted and turned against him.

"Julian…"

Lying against the dusty ground, Bashir couldn't hear her, too drowned in his private misery to take anything in around him any longer. Empathetically she squeezed his trembling shoulders, though she couldn't help feeling indescribably helpless. She didn't know what to do to ease his suffering, to help him through the overwhelming aftermath that was following his ordeal – that was still clutching at him, dragging him back into the shadowy nightmares of the past three months. The only thing she could do right now was be there for him. But perhaps it was even more vital to him right now than any other physiological aid.

"John, help me…"

Together they brought him up far enough for Jadzia to gently lean his weak and battered body against hers. He didn't even realize. Whispering soothing and consoling words, the Trill held him in a tight hug as she gently cradled the sobbing young man. She couldn't think of anything else. He seemed so fragile and weak, so helpless and lost in his misery that she couldn't help feel guilty for not having been there for him, before, when he had needed her the most. When he had needed all of them.

Stroking affectionately over his dark hair, she felt her own tears sting behind her eyes.

In this moment she couldn't help but loathe Telac, loathe him with all her heart for what he had done to the young man now lying barely conscious in her arms. She didn't know how Telac had him manipulated, what Julian had went through, though she knew one thing for sure: Only a few more steps, only a little bit more pushing and he would have been beyond redemption. She knew it for sure – and it didn't but further the subtle feeling of guilt.

Looking at his weeping shape now, she realized how close they had been to losing him forever…

She wasn't sure how long they were sitting there in the dimness, John silent but with anxious and worried eyes, Julian crying on her shoulder until his sobbing gradually subsided. His breathing was too uneven, his pulse too weak to risk leaving him without proper medical aid. He was at the end of his tether.

Still holding his unconscious body, Jadzia turned far enough to see John sit in the dimness next to her.

"John, we have to bring him back to the surface."

* * *

"Any news?"

Sitting at one of the vacant tables in the Defiant's mess hall, Kira cocked her head, involuntarily interrupting her little conversation with Chief O'Brien; when she heard the familiar voice and saw Dax enter the half-crowded place. With the young Trill coming nearer and offering a weak and all but reassuring smile, though, Kira knew that things boded ill. She waited until Dax had settled down. The young Trill let out a short sigh before she gave them another smile.

A genuine one, though. One that was meant not to belittle things but one that was meant for friends. An affectionate smile.

"How is he?" the major finally asked, both hands absently draped around her half-drained coffee mug.

Shaking her head, Dax expression became serious again – only furthering their friends' worries. "He's well – according to the circumstances, that is. The injuries weren't too serious - a few bruises from the collapsing ceiling apart from his broken arm. I'm no doctor but I think I handled it quite well. His body has collapsed with the unnatural great exhaustion he'd been suffering but basically it's nothing a couple of days in bed won't cure. He's been sleeping ever since we brought him off the planet, but I think physically he should soon be back to normal…"

"And psychologically?" O'Brien managed, not caring to hide his concern.

"I can't say that for sure. He's been unconscious ever since. I thought it best to let him sleep until we get back to the station where there's proper medical staff to keep an eye on him."

O'Brien nodded grimly, absorbed in his own thoughts.

"He'll be likely to need psychological treatment as well," Kira added thoughtfully, "to cope with what he's experienced. I can't say that I can really figure what it was like for him but… I only hope we'll get him back."

Jadzia offered a sympathetic but sad smile. She hadn't told them yet what John and she had witnessed back on the planet. She hadn't even had any time to do so. With no further medical personnel on board she had been one of the few persons with medical experience; and had thus felt responsible for caring for Bashir. And even if there had been any medical staff, she would have felt so all the same.

"How's the situation going?" Dax changed topics. She hadn't been on the bridge for a while. The last thing she knew was that the central authority – no, Mr. Hradly – had pointed out that he would do some further investigations on the whole issue. It still hurt to think of what they had experienced those last weeks as a mere political "issue". Even if it was just another case for Starfleet, or some plan that went wrong for a government trying to gain greater influence beyond their territory of space, it had been their lives that had been irrevocably influenced in its course. It was them – as individuals – who were affected, whose memory the past few weeks that the new and all but pleasant experiences would become. For others their case might only be one among thousands of others, but for themselves, it was yet another unchangeable step they had taken on the path of their lives…

"They're investigating," Kira snorted, obviously all but content with the governments course of action to track down a potential criminal. One that had almost broken off a new era for both quadrants. "Starfleet's sending their own team of investigators. Captain Sisko has already talked to Starfleet Command. At least we can be sure the game's played fair."

"So how did you know?" Dax leaned forward. "I mean, your timing couldn't be better."

Kira's expression grew all at once absent, as if recalling things she wouldn't be able to share with her friends. Or perhaps she simply wasn't able to voice them aloud. "Faith, I suppose."

At the quizzical looks on her friends' faces she quickly shook her head. "I got worried. I can't say why but somehow it just didn't feel right. I mean, Captain Sisko's sudden departure, the wormhole's strange behavior – and then there was that nagging feeling that wouldn't vanish no matter how hard I tried to feel at ease. It was Odo's advice that made me contact with Lieutenant Perris earlier than necessary. When Perris wouldn't answer, I knew that something definitely was wrong."

O'Brien threw a questioning look at her. "Besides, what happened to Lieutenant Perris?"

"He's fine. When Defiant arrived at Felan III we didn't find but the deserted runabout. No sign of Lieutenant Perris or you, though we could at least track you down to the city of Velurin for your transport designation was still saved in the runabout's transport logs. Lieutenant Perris was a harder one to find, though. Shortly after your abduction, the central authority of Felan III had his runabout confiscated for no valid reason, though it seems as if they had as arrested Perris in the course of doing so. When we arrived here with Defiant, they weren't prepared for the encounter, apparently. Knowing that Perris was Starfleet and that they wouldn't get rid of us without giving in, at least concerning this point, they gave us Perris back; and they allowed us to salvage the runabout, offering the explanation that Perris had intruded restricted territory and had therefore been arrested. They demanded us to leave Felan III and its territory immediately and in return we should be granted safe passage home."

"You mean, so that you couldn't snoop around any further?" O'Brien cut in.

Kira nodded absently. "Of course we knew that something must have happened to you, we couldn't just turn our backs on the place. That was when I started to ask a little more questions. Well, how should I say, the central authority wasn't that glad about me intruding in private little secrets so they gave me an ultimatum saying Defiant had to leave Felani space within the hour or otherwise Felan III would regard Defiant an enemy threat."

Chuckling humorlessly, Kira sighed. "It wasn't that hard to find out about your whereabouts or that you were held there against your will. And once we did and the central authority wouldn't help get you out of there, not to mention the military canons of Velurin opening fire on us – well, we tried to do so all the same."

Smiling slightly, Jadzia said: "I can't say I'm not glad you did."

Noticing the absent expression on the chief's face, though, Jadzia suddenly turned. O'Brien had been surprisingly silent for a long time and even now he didn't seem to have overheard the last few pieces of their conversation, still staring vaguely into the empty small coffee mug he had already drained some minutes ago.

"Just because he's still unconscious doesn't mean you can't go see him," she gave him a thoughtful look, then as if in an afterthought she added a reassuring smile. "I think he'll be glad to see you're still alive when he wakes up."

Awkwardly O'Brien nodded. "Aye, Sir." Then he stood up, and with a last concerned look towards the major and Lieutenant Dax he turned and left the mess hall, obviously more than keen on complying Jadzia's orders.

"Do you think it's such a good idea? After all Captain Sisko told me about what happened…" Kira didn't sound too convinced. She had heard of the few things Sisko had been able to tell her back on the bridge – and even if she hadn't been there with them and hadn't seen the things they did, she knew that perhaps Julian's hardest times were still lying in front of him.

"We'll have to restart somewhere. And they are friends," Dax offered.

"Yes, but the question is, are you still friends after your friend thought he had killed you?"

* * *

When he finally stepped in front of the door leading to the infirmary – and O'Brien couldn't help but recall Julian's indignation about how one could construct a ship with such inadequate medical facilities – he wasn't at all sure if he was ready to face the truth. When he had talked to Dax and Kira, well, he couldn't think of anything he would have rather done than come here immediately, but now… He just wasn't sure if it was really such a good idea after all.

He had seen Julian in that room, and he had barely been able to recognize the once-buoyant, zealous young man, he had come to know Julian as. Somehow it had even scared him. Julian had been so unpredictable then, so wild and haggard, so… _different._ He didn't even know if Julian wanted to speak to him, anyway.

_Miles, you're friends. Julian needs you. You can't let him down now…_

O'Brien could hear his wife's voice, mild and understanding like it always was, but also firm and resolute – and he was glad for it. Before he could even think about it any further, he made himself enter. Perhaps things might have changed between them, but he wouldn't find out if he didn't try.

There was just another man inside. A security guard stood on the far side of the room, indicating a short and almost subtle nod, when he saw O'Brien enter.

"Can I… I mean… May I speak to him alone?" the chief awkwardly said.

"Lieutenant Dax told me to survey his vitals and contact her if there's any medical emergency or he's waking up…" the young guard hesitantly answered.

"I'll watch it," O'Brien promised.

With another short nod the security guard left. It was not until O'Brien heard the familiar quiet hiss of the closing door that he let out a sigh of relief. And for the first time he actually saw him.

Julian was lying motionlessly on one of the biobeds.

He hadn't reacted to O'Brien's conversation with the security guard, nor had he shown any sign of wakefulness when the security guard had left. He was just lying there, with both arms on top of the bluish coverlet, almost as if asleep. His features were relaxed and blank, his face unnaturally pallid, though his breath came even and deep. They had replaced his uniform by a dark blue shirt.

_As if he was already dead…_

O'Brien tried to push the thought away, slowly nearing the biobed and trying to keep as quiet as possible. He didn't want to disturb Julian. Swiftly looking for a chair of sorts, he dragged the one of the security guard's seats near, putting it next to the bed and settling down.

He didn't know what to do next, though.

_Talking to him would be a good start, Miles._

Mentally he thanked Keiko for her mindfulness. He should tell her that. As soon as they made it back to the station.

"Hello, Julian. This is me, Miles."

The words came out awkwardly, sounding a bit odd in the silence that filled the infirmary. _But you don't often get into such situations. Of course it sounds odd, but that's the problem if you're talking to someone that you don't even know if he can hear you._

"Well, I just wanted to see you… those last three months were… pretty strange without you."

Taking a long breath, he continued. "I mean, not that much had happened on the station – expect the ordinary everyday chaos – and," chuckling humorously he shook his head, "Quark had his bar evacuated with a epidemic warning by some youths who were just wanting to play a trick on somebody."

Then he became serious. "It's good to have you back, Julian. I missed you and I'm sure I'm speaking for all of your comrades. DS9 was just not the same without you. When word came from Starfleet that your shuttle was missing we didn't believe it at first. And even when Starfleet had taken action to find out what happened, Captain Sisko didn't want to believe you were really dead – because that was what they supposed. They weren't able to find any emissions, any warp signatures corresponding with your shuttlecraft so that Starfleet concluded with the deduction that your shuttle had been destroyed."

Pausing, O'Brien realized, that it wasn't even as hard as he had thought. He _had_ things he wanted to tell Julian, even if those weren't of pleasant nature.

"But the truth is, we'd given up on you. The longer you were missing, the more everyone thought that Starfleet was right, that you were really dead," he said in sad tones, slightly shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, Julian. For haven given up on you. It was so easy for us back on the station. Just one silly report from Starfleet and we gave up hope. We should have held on. _I_ should have held on. I can hardly figure what it was like for you to endure what Telac did to you. And during all that time you hoped for us to come for you. And _we_ did give up hope. I'm sorry Julian. If we had found out earlier you would have been spared the torment…"

"Stop it…"

O'Brien's head cocked up all at once. He was not sure he had heard right. It had sounded like a very weak voice. Julian's voice.

Bending over his slack body, he frowned. "Julian, you're awake?"

The young man still didn't give any sign that he had actually heard, though O'Brien thought that he could see a tear glinting as it ran down his pallid cheek.

"I can't bear that you keep apologizing…"

His voice was very quiet, barely understandable, but yet it was there. O'Brien directed now his full attention on Julian.

"You're really awake! I thought you'd never wake up again!"

The young man still kept his eyes closed, his body unmoving.

"Wouldn't have mattered," was everything Julian brought forth.

"How can you say that? Everyone's happy to have you back. We've been worrying about you ever since we found out you're still alive."

No answer.

"Major Kira and Dax are still worried. And Captain Sisko…"

Julian's eyes flew open all at once, a bewildered stare in his still tired eyes. "He's here?"

Startled about the sudden reaction, O'Brien recalled what had happened in Telac's lab – how Telac had ordered Julian to kill his commanding officer. He wasn't sure if that was all behind the young man's reaction now – after all, he didn't know what exactly happened to him those last three months in captivity.

"He's… on the bridge, talking to some bureaucrats of Felan III," O'Brien hurriedly tried to explain.

He wasn't sure if it was just his imagination but Julian seemed somehow to relax at his words. Still he didn't even move his head, directing his stare absently toward the ceiling – and with a short sigh he closed his eyes again.

"I'd be glad if you could leave me alone, Chief…" Julian tiredly whispered.

The silence following was engulfing and stifling – until O'Brien spoke up again.

"What's it all about with you and Captain Sisko, Julian?"

The question caught the young man off guard, O'Brien could see it. He suddenly reopened his eyes, turning his head to face the chief, his face distorted with anguish the Irishman didn't know where it so suddenly came from.

"I don't want to talk about it," he managed in disdained voice – though O'Brien was not sure if the young man's contempt was really directed at him. In fact, Julian wasn't even looking at the him, avoiding any eye contact as he was staring toward the door behind the chief. Turning his gaze again upwards, he suddenly ran both hands over his pallid face. Just for a split second, O'Brien thought he had seen a few short tears in his eyes, but Julian had already wiped them off.

Remembering what had happened only a few hours ago it was amazing that Julian was even able to have any reasonable conversation at all. He had been so haggard back then, so utterly on Telac's will… But somehow Julian's calmness was even more distracting. It didn't seem appropriate. Not after what he had gone through. O'Brien knew very well that he was no counselor – but still, he had to try and make Julian talk. There were still so many things he didn't know, so many gaps of the puzzle left unfilled.

He had seen Julian's behavior when Telac had ordered him to kill Sisko. He had also witnessed what happened when Sisko had tried and make him remember who he was in the cell. But yet he didn't know what was behind it. He didn't know what _exactly_ had made Bashir react like he had.

Not willing to let Julian leave the whole thing with it, he took again a deep breath.

"It was Telac who made you do it, wasn't it?"

It was just an mere try. He didn't even know, if Telac had actually _made_ Julian _do_ something – but still it was fairly obvious. Taking his behavior towards them, and especially Captain Sisko, into account and adding the fact that Telac had broken Julian – well, O'Brien just wished he were not right.

For another moment neither of them spoke.

"That doesn't change anything," Julian whispered under his breath, simultaneously proving O'Brien's surmise to be true.

"What… I mean, what happened?" O'Brien incredulously asked. Whatever happened, it hadn't been _Julian's _fault. Having encountered that maniac of a man, he knew for sure that Bashir would have never helped him. He knew his friend. He would never have agreed to Telac's warped scheme.

"It's not important, is it?"

"It surely is."

Hesitating, Julian apparently struggled with his inner feelings, trying to keep his reticence, to bury everything within himself – though in vain.

"I killed Sisko," he finally brought forth, his voice strained with the unnatural effort of keeping his voice from shaking.

"But Julian, the captain's alive. He's on the bridge, struggling to take Telac and the central authority to court," O'Brien held in confusion.

For the Irishman, the young man's words didn't make any sense, though his resoluteness and calmness was startling.

"Stop telling me that it wasn't real. Jadzia already tried to. Even John. It _was_ real. For me it was _damn _real. I killed him. I killed my commanding officer because some warped maniac told me to do so. You weren't there, you can't even imagine what it was like."

Julian had once again closed his eyes, trying to keep his voice low. He didn't want to shout. Shouting would just make it worse. He couldn't run away now. He couldn't run away from reality. But they just didn't understand. No one could understand.

"I didn't have any choice," he mumbled. "He told me to kill Sisko or otherwise he would keep killing other innocent people until I'd finally do what he said. He killed Jadzia and the girl. He would have committed so much more murder if I hadn't obeyed. There was no choice left. He'd not have let me prevent anybody from being harmed. I just wanted it to stop. I just wanted those people to be safe."

Trying to catch up on what the young man was confessing to him, O'Brien kept wondering, what exactly Bashir was talking about, for neither Sisko, nor Dax nor he himself had been hurt in the course of their captivity. It was Julian's battered demeanor, though, that told him that he really believed in what he was saying, that no matter what had happened when he had first come to Felan III, Telac had somehow managed to turn Julian's own life against himself. He must have played with his sense of reality. Perhaps those other persons had even been of holographic origin. He wasn't sure of it though he knew that no matter the real circumstances, Julian had once believed it to be true.

"So you did, what he told you?" O'Brien tried mildly.

Julian decidedly shook his head. "I just wanted it to stop. I can barely believe that I actually did what he said. It's so disgusting and loathsome. I'd have never thought I could do anything like that… I'm nauseated at myself, Miles. I killed an innocent man."

"No, Julian, you didn't," O'Brien objected. It was almost as if Julian was still in Telac's grip, poisoned with his words and his menace. It was ridiculous. Julian blaming himself for having made the only choice he had been left with.

"Listen to me, you had no other choice. Telac has done that to you. _He_ is to be blamed, not you Julian. If anybody would have been responsible for Sisko's death it would have been Telac. You didn't voluntarily agree to it. You were forced to. As you told me, there was just one possible choice: Save as many lives as you could. And you did so."

Not reacting to the chief's words, Julian kept staring at the ceiling.

"I had been a doctor, Miles. I had sworn an oath, an oath to protect life," his voice nearly broke. "I betrayed everything I once believed in."

"But what about the wormhole. You opposed to help Telac, no matter how much he tried to force you to cooperate. You saved us, Julian. If Telac would have completed his bomb in time…" he let that trail off, though Julian must be aware that he saved a whole race from being extinguished – barring that he saved the passage between the Alpha and Gamma Quadrant.

"Sooner or later he would have known. If the Defiant hadn't come in time…" Julian turned to the other side, his shoulders hunched and his eyes closed against the engulfing and menacing truth of reality.

"I'd be glad if you'd leave me alone, Chief."

Already about to protest, O'Brien realized that no matter what he said, Julian wouldn't listen to him. Too deep were his inner wounds, too deeply was he affected by the last months. And gradually he realized that one part of Julian had been destroyed in their course.

He'd lost his self-respect, had given up on himself.

No matter how much he tried to make Julian realize that no one would ever blame him for having cracked under Telac's pressure, the young man wouldn't listen for he just couldn't forgive himself.

Nodding reluctantly, O'Brien slowly drew himself up and before leaving he stopped once more and turned around.

"I… won't tell them you're awake. We won't reach the station but in about 8 hours…"

He knew he wouldn't get any reaction so he let out a short sigh and finally left the room.

* * *

With closed eyes, he tried to slide back into the all-surrounding familiar darkness, though sleep wouldn't come.

It were his thoughts that kept dragging him back to the surface of sleep, that made it impossible for him to leave reality behind.

He didn't know how much time had passed since O'Brien's visit. After the chief had gone, a tall and burly young security guard had appeared and settled himself in the chair to the far side of the room. However, he didn't know that he was awake and Julian didn't intend to let him know. Even if he felt like his chest was on fire, like his whole body would explode from within, he kept himself still and unmoving.

He'd been in much worse situations after all.

He would wait. There wasn't much left to lose anyway. If it weren't for the guard he would have walked over and grabbed the corrolatium immediately but with security watching him it just wasn't worth the trouble.

At least he wasn't hurt, not crouching on the ground, half-conscious with torture and hunger. The sheets were clean, the biobed soft and pleasant – god, he had never noticed how comfortable biobeds could be – and the air fresh and warm. But still his body was aching with non-existing pain.

What if it was just another illusion? One of Telac's perverse games to dash yet another rebuild hope?

He couldn't be sure of that but somehow it didn't even matter. As long as he just left him alone. As long as he just let him finally do what he had wanted to do ever since life had become a nightmare. A never-ending nightmare.

And he couldn't wake up.

It didn't matter that they had found him. It didn't matter that he was going home.

Even if it hadn't been real for them, it had been for _him._ He knew what he was capable of, he knew what a monster he could become.

There was just one alternative left. He'd just have to wait for the right time.


	8. Chapter 7

**Hidden Memories - Chapter 7**

"So Telac's now unaccounted for?"

Odo was bending over the conference table in the middle of the ward room, both hands steepled in front of his chest. His face was expressionless as ever, though Sisko thought he could see a small twist of disdain in Odo's mouth-like opening. In any case, the constable was obviously very interested in what Sisko, Kira, Dax and O'Brien had to report from their rescue mission in the Gamma Quadrant. More so because he finally got to know the real reason that had been behind the captain's sudden departure from the station two weeks earlier… and that reason proved to be a little bit more extraordinary than everyday crimes on the station.

"Officially the central authority of Felan III filed a report whereupon Telac's plans to destroy the wormhole were completely unknown to any official representative. According to their reports, Telac was a terrorist who acted on his own. After the Defiant's interference, Mr. Hradly officially issued an arrest warrant against Telac and his helpers. He's also sent his regrets and apologies for what has happened."

Kira snorted, not very impressed. "As if Telac would have been able to set up such high-tech headquarters on his own…"

"And unofficially?" Lieutenant Worf interjected sternly.

Running his hand over his beard, Sisko nodded with a short sigh. "According to Starfleet Intelligence, Telac's plans had been approved by the government who considered it an opportunity to gain greater influence in that sector of the Gamma Quadrant in the first place. When Telac's intentions were exposed, the government couldn't risk getting involved in the affair, making it seem as if a mad scientist had acted on his own."

"What about Dr. Bashir's shuttle? Why had he been shot upon while he was traversing the gravitational belt of the planet? The Felani must have known that attacking a Starfleet shuttle would most probably be considered an aggressive act towards the Federation. They should have figured that a Starfleet shuttle wouldn't go missing so easily…" Lieutenant Dax folded both hands in her lab, intent on what Sisko had to say.

"Well, it's only guesswork, but with their own technology not able to compete with other space traveling cultures, the Felani must have known that they were still lacking of the ability to realize Telac's plan. Their ships are too small, not very fast – least of all prone for long-distance traveling. They must have also known that other cultures with other technology would be able to hide their intention long enough to place the bomb in the wormhole – and that included Starfleet."

"So Julian was just at the wrong place at the wrong time," Kira concluded, letting out a short, resigned sigh. She looked tense, obviously only slowly grasping the full meaning of the political game Sisko, Dax, O'Brien and Bashir had been used in.

"You can say so." The captain's visage remained somber. "When Dr. Bashir came into range of the planetary defense system, the Felani took their singular chance of obtaining Starfleet technology. Alas, in the course of their attack, Dr. Bashir had most obviously lost control over the runabout. Once it reached the surface, it crashed down in a swampy area – maybe thus even saving his life when the shell was not smashed by the impact on the dampening ground. However, all the data we received from the central authority revealed that there isn't much left of the runabout, its main computer systems almost completely useless, most of the data irreversibly lost. That just left them Dr. Bashir…" Sisko trailed off, watching every single member of his crew.

"Three months is a long time," Odo snorted finally, shaking his head. "How is he?"

It was the very question everyone in the room was interested in, though only Dax and O'Brien had seen and spoken to him so far. Even though everyone had read the official mission report and thus was informed about everything that had occurred since Sisko had so suddenly left the station, nothing had been said about Dr. Bashir's condition, apart from the fact that the station's CMO would be indefinitely off duty. So everyone was more than anxious for some news.

"Physically well, though I would suggest from all that I saw, that he's psychically unstable," Dax offered in a matter-of-fact tone, not letting her actual feelings show.

"He's in his quarters now. I thought it wouldn't be a good idea to keep him in the infirmary too long, for he's almost completely recovered. And I'm sure a more familiar surrounding will do him good…" she added in an afterthought.

Odo snorted a short affirmation, then folded both hands and propped himself on his elbows. Even if her statement wasn't quite informative, he left it at that, even though he knew that there was more to the young Trill's words than she wanted them all to believe. But it wasn't his business and he respected her reluctance. He had never before had the trait to pry into other people's businesses and he surely wouldn't start to now.

When Worf offered a short nod, too, the captain continued.

"Good, we'll meet again when Starfleet sends word what precisely will happen with Telac and the central authority, once our man is found. In the meantime: Just get a little bit of rest and try not to overburden yourself. The last days have been quite exhausting. Dismissed."

When everyone had left – even though Kira had to almost literarily drag Chief O'Brien out of the room, who had already been about to start questioning the young Trill about Julian all over again – , Dax stepped next to the captain's side, following his gaze towards the many pinprick-seized stars outside the viewport. Both hands clasped behind her back, she let some seconds elapse before she finally spoke up in a quiet voice.

"You should go and talk to him, Benjamin." Her expression tensed as she turned to face her friend.

Benjamin seemed to consider her words for a brief moment, then inhaled deeply.

"I know, Old Man. It's just that I can't even imagine what our conversation could be like…" Sisko answered, running his hand once more over his short beard. "You know, I just want to wait until he's settled a little bit in. Three months is indeed a long time. I don't want to overwhelm him with all these new impressions. He needs time to adjust. I don't want to push him – not in his present condition anyway."

After a short pause he reluctantly added, this time more than earnest: "How is he?"

The young Trill slightly shook her head. He could see the sadness in her blue eyes as her brows furrowed with worry. "After all I experienced and what Chief O'Brien told me, we should keep our expectations to a minimum. He's completely down. After his conversation with Julian, O'Brien told me he had been almost too quiet. It's so very different from what he was when John and I found him in the Telac's lab. It's like he's given up at length. It's… scaring…"

Taking a deep breath, Sisko squared his shoulders. He didn't like what this was leading to, but still he had to voice it. "He's ready to die. That's why he's so unnaturally calm…"

He could see Dax bewilderment – and concern at his words, but hurriedly held up one hand in reassurance. "I've already fixed daily sessions with counselor Telnorri. Let's wait for his professional assessment of the situation. Perhaps it's just transitional. Julian just isn't the type to give up that easily…"

The young Trill nodded, then gently squeezed Sisko's upper arm, offering a weak smile. "Get some rest yourself, Benjamin. It's been quite stressful days…"

Sisko didn't turn to face her, as he kept staring straight ahead. "I will…. I promise, I will…"

* * *

Julian was pausing, watching his tired reflection for a short moment in the small mirror above the sink. Pale, worn features were staring back at him, making him wonder if his inner exhaustion was actually as obvious to other persons as it felt from within. Finally able to tear away his gaze, he grabbed the fresh towel and hastily rubbed his cool skin. He was shivering, eager to finish drying himself as quickly as possible and dress again. The fine hairs of his neck and arms were already bristling up – most likely due to the unnaturally cold hanging like a paralyzing veil in the air. He hurriedly slipped into the dark trousers and the blue shirt, when his thoughts were all at once drawn back to reality. 

"You're ok, Dr. Bashir?" a low male voice came from the other room.

Wincing he recalled that he wasn't alone…

"I'm almost finished," he replied dryly, not hurrying in the least to make his way back to the other room.

Julian cast a wistful look towards the shower, wondering if he could just have another. He felt so cold and tired. The feeling of warm water running down his skin had been so comforting and calming, making him almost feel at home again.

Almost.

All at once nauseated and distracted, he turned his gaze away and closed the zipper of his jacket, put on socks and shoes. He was still shivering, even with the thick layers of clothes and the room temperature set to higher degree than usual, though he tried to hide it when he finally left the bathroom for the adjacent living room.

As he had expected, the tall, grim-looking security guard was still standing there, next to the door, nodding slightly as he saw Bashir come back. Lieutenant Sharun was a young, burly man, only lately assigned to the Station. Julian dimly recalled him having been assigned to the U.S.S. _Kelaran_ before his arrival at DS9 some months ago. They had only met once, shortly after Sharun's first week on the station but Bashir had been too busy with the preparations for the medical conference on Altaran as to remember the young man more than just from brief sight. Wondering if Sharun had already made new friends and made himself at home, Julian involuntarily felt the lump in his throat.

He could tell from Sharun's awkward posture that the young security guard wasn't at comfort with having to intrude on Bashir's privacy, either. However, for his credit he didn't say anything, keeping his eyes fixed to the opposite wall and giving Julian at least enough privacy not to feel too policed.

Julian didn't care.

Even if Dax or O'Brien, Kira or Odo had seen to have him watched over, it just didn't change anything. If they wanted him alive – good, he would obey, though they wouldn't be able to keep their eyes on him forever. They couldn't live his whole live for him. Sooner or later they would finally abandon him again…

He slowly walked over to the cabinet and found the PADDs where he had left them, grabbing some at random. So they hadn't vacated his quarters during his absence. Julian wasn't sure if he should feel glad or indescribably sad about it. In fact he barely felt anything at all as he numbly stared at the blank devices in his hand as if not quite sure what to do with them. He tried to ignore the upwelling emotions and took a short, deep breath before he slowly closed the cabinet's drawer.

Letting himself heavily drop onto the couch in front of the huge viewports, he pushed away the cushions to lean back. There wasn't much to do anyway, he could as well pass some time with reading. It had been some strong, almost life-depending need that had driven him to stumble yet again into the shower, to wash it all away, to get rid of the filth and dirt he never was able to get off. But it was pure boredom that drove him to retrieve those long forgotten PADDs out of the drawer, even if he didn't actually feel like reading at all.

Julian tapped the first one, making bright green letters appear on the once-black surface. It all seemed so familiar, but yet so far away. Like something out of another lifetime.

_Neuromuscular germ cell combination._

He had worked on that particular issue before his trip to the Gamma Quadrant. Before – he hadn't come back from the conference…

Tapping it off, it took him some seconds to overcome the icy terror that had laid itself over his shivering body at the mere thought of what he still wished so desperately to forget. Ignoring and forgetting was everything that still kept him in life, the only way to keep guilt and horror down to a somewhat bearable degree. He didn't know how he could ever go on from now, how he could ever again see into the faces of those he once had considered friends. And he wouldn't need to. There wasn't anything left he could come back to, was there?

Julian absently set the once again black PADD aside and started flicking through the other ones he had brought. Wincing, he realized that it weren't but medical ones, dealing with topics he once had been interested in. _No_, he coldly scolded himself, _topics _Dr. Julian Bashir_ had been interested in._

He wasn't a doctor any more. He was relieved of duty, most likely for an incalculable amount of time. And he also knew he would never return to being a healer, for he had betrayed everything this profession stood for.

Shoving the PADDs to the far side of the small table, Julian eased himself onto the couch again, lay down the length of it and furled up on its soft mattress. If he just weren't so tired. He was so utterly tired and exhausted but still sleep wouldn't come. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and tried not to think, not to relive the horrors he never was able to shake off completely.

His meandering thoughts didn't have time to dredge up further details, though, when a soft chime made him involuntarily focus his attention back to reality again.

Someone was coming. Probably to see or talk to him. Julian couldn't help but watch it passively when Lieutenant Sharun turned to open, not even asking Bashir if he wanted to see anybody. Julian was used to it, though. No one ever asked for his wishes. He was nothing more than a puppet, first of Telac and now of his _friends_.

Closing his tired eyes against everything else, he heard the door hiss open, heard muffled footfalls and hushed voices, speaking in unintelligible tones – speaking about _him._ He didn't care. Laying his head on the back of his hand, he could still pretend to be asleep. Perhaps they would leave him alone…

"Julian?"

He hated that name, the way people spoke it, the very way they _used_ it… Reluctantly opening his eyes, he saw the tall and burly figure edged against the bright light of the corridor that spilled in from around the figure's silhouette. He didn't even have to see it clearly to know who it was – though the awareness didn't make it any easier. He didn't want to meet anybody. He didn't want to talk to anybody. And he didn't want to be visited by anybody. If they just left him alone…

"How are you?" John gently asked as he entered Julian's quarters without being asked to and slowly started nearing the small couch and its table. He didn't wait for Julian's reaction, but settled himself into one of the two vacant chairs, leaning forward as he intently watched the young man. Behind him the door whooshed closed.

Yet again Julian was trapped…

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Fine," was everything Bashir retorted as he warily dragged himself up. His eyes didn't meet John's as he kept his stare fixed on the opposite door where Lt. Sharun was still standing, hands clasped behind his back, and most likely overhearing every word both of them spoke.

"Julian, it's ok, you're talking to me," the young engineer tried mildly. "You don't have to lie and I won't tell anybody. I'm your friend, you forgot?"

"I'm fine," Bashir answered once more, running a hand over the length of his face and gently rubbing his temples. With his face so expressionless it was hard to tell what he was really feeling behind his insincere mask of indifference, though it was more than obvious that the recent events still had their shadows on him – perhaps even more than anyone would have suggested only hours ago.

He was lying.

He seemed so tired and worn, making John involuntarily wonder if Julian had actually slept the night before. It had been more than two days that Defiant had made it back to the station. More than a day that he had been released from the Infirmary and assigned to his quarters though both Captain Sisko as well as Counselor Telnorri would have it that he was constantly watched over. Swiftly squinting at the burly young security man who was still standing next to the door, John took in a deep deliberate breath and wondered how much Julian felt actually disturbed by the constant surveillance.

However, it was only logical a consequence. After all they experienced Julian didn't seem quite capable of coping with his recently regained memory. Having not a watchful eye on him might prove out disastrous…

No matter how much it hurt seeing him treated like this, John knew that it was the best thing they were able to do for him at present. Even if he had been rescued from Telac's captivity, even if he had been brought home, reinserted into his old life and given every medical care he had needed, Julian was far from being back to normal. John didn't know what kind of person Julian had been before his involuntary stay in Velurin. If his zealous and buoyant attitude during their "normal life" had been what once had qualified the original Dr. Julian Bashir. But even compared to the man he had come to know as his friend, with whom he had shared the better part of the worst times under Telac's influence, the young man sitting now in front of him, was merely a shadow of his former self.

He barely recognized his friend any more. John could still see it in Julian's pained and tantalized eyes, could tell it from how he carried himself in front of others. Even in this very moment, Julian was suffering from the last three months, silently, without letting anyone know, trying to pretend that everything was alright even though it was not…

When Julian didn't offer any further conversation and kept silently staring towards the floor, John tried again.

"Lieutenant Dax asked me to accompany you to your session with Counselor Telnorri."

He could see Bashir involuntarily flinch at the mentioning of the counselor, though besides he didn't show any other reaction. It was as if he thought that ignoring John would finally make him leave…

Leaning gently out to him, John sighed. He somehow managed to resist the urge to touch his friend for comfort.

"Julian, you're back home," he tried, almost pleading, not knowing how to work the miracle that was needed to get his friend back; a miracle they all were yearning for so desperately. "This is where you always wanted to go. And now you're back. They've found you and brought you home. I know that things have changed since then, but it's still the place where you belong."

Slowly shaking his head, Bashir's voice was barely audible as he spoke at length. "This isn't home. Home is somewhere you feel at ease, somewhere you can come back to, a place where you belong, a place of warmth and security." His voice almost broke. "I don't want to be here…"

Gently reaching out for his shoulder, John's expression grew all of a sudden sad and melancholic. "You once used to be. Even when you first came to Velurin, in Telac's captivity, it was home – the desire to get back home – that kept you alive. You always wanted to return here, you kept opposing Telac, clinging to the faith that your friends would come for you. And finally they did. And they brought you home. Do you really want to throw that away?"

"Wasn't my choice," Julian mumbled. "That was before…"

He didn't finish the sentence, though John could see him stiffen at the thought of the moment when all his past life had irrevocably shattered into tens of thousands of pieces. And John couldn't even blame him. Julian had shut down every smallest thought about his past life – about his friends, about who he actually was – in a last desperate attempt to save his battered mind from insanity. And not without reason. Having suppressed Telac's cruel and inhuman torture, the humiliation of having been broken and the crushing guilt of committed murder, Julian had still been able to lead a normal life during those last three months, employed in the authority complex of Velurin. He had been save for the time being, his thoughts completely dispatched from what had happened.

But now those feelings, those unpleasant, devastative, long suppressed memories had been dredged up again, dashing the illusion of a rebuild life in a moment's notice, drowning him all at once in the misery too long deferred. And Julian obviously didn't see any way out. Too buried with guilt and shame, his thoughts obviously couldn't free themselves from the horror he had went through, constantly dragging him back to the decisive moment of his ordeal, the moment when Telac had voiced the order that should ultimately destroy Julian's own life…

No, Julian was all but himself, his present condition at best comparable to some sort of emotional shock. Contrary to what Dax had stated some time ago, he wasn't on the mend. And as long as he couldn't get any objective view on his present state, John wouldn't allow him to destroy the puny chance of life he had been left with.

He knew what Julian intended to do. What he had intended ever since Telac had made him remember – and John was resolute to prevent him from any further harm, no matter if inflicted by Telac, his friends or Julian himself.

Letting out a short sigh, John dragged himself up and threw a short look toward the small replicator in the opposite wall's niche.

"Lieutenant Dax told me your appointment is in about half an hour. What… about lunch? I figure you haven't had anything yet?"

Julian succinctly shook his head, his voice tinted with contempt. "I'm not hungry."

"Thought you'd say that…" the young engineer mumbled under his breath but went there all the same, swiftly ordering a cup of steaming _Kelanar._ He waited until the sparkling faded, and the molecules had coalesced into shape, before he gingerly reached out for the hot, steaming cup.

When he came back, he didn't bother to sit down but kept standing, intently taking in Julian's surroundings. It was the first time he actually got a more accurate idea of his friend's past life, though he quickly directing his look back to Bashir, not wanting to intrude too far into the young man's privacy. Instead he tried yet again to involve Julian into conversation.

"I've never thought space stations can be so big", he said, chuckling slightly. "I didn't have much to do those last two days so Major Kira offered me a tour around the station, showed everything to me. I'm not sure if living in such a dark and bulky container would be the right thing for me, but at least your comrades seem to be quite nice."

Bashir didn't respond, though he seemed to tense at the mentioning of his former friends.

"You know, we visited that bar yesterday. Run by the Ferengi. Not bad, I have to admit", John smiled again. "What about stopping in before your appointment with the counselor. We could have a short drink – or two?"

Julian let out a weak sigh. "I don't feel like going to Quark's." After a short silence he added in an almost too quiet voice: "Can't you just leave me alone?"

It sounded more like a helpless plea than a real request, making John feel all again guilty and intruding. He just wanted to help Julian…

Trying to change topics and bridge the last twenty minutes till their meeting with the station's counselor, he took another swift glance around until his eyes fell upon a plain wooden picture frame. Absently he reached out for the light-coloured, old-fashioned thing.

"Your brother?"

Obviously in surprise, Julian cocked up his head, his brow furrowed in confusion until he spotted the picture John was holding and intently studying.

"No, one of my friends at the academy," Julian simply said, not too elated about the conversation. His voice was still perfectly controlled.

John made some sort of _hum_ sound before he put the frame cautiously back onto the shelf from where he had originally retrieved it. With a slightly sad smile crossing his lips, he shortly shook his head before he focused his attention back on Julian.

The young man still sat at the very same spot he had when John had entered his quarters. In fact, Julian's reaction to John's visit had failed quite briefly, making the young engineer wonder, if he could actually make it through Bashir's inner barrier.

"He had a certain resemblance to you about him. I just thought you were related", John tried once again, taking another sip of the hot red liquid.

"I've no siblings. I'm an only-child," Bashir retorted matter-of-factly.

There was a short silence following until John finally spoke up again. When he did, his visage fell somber, a hint of sadness crossing his handsome features as his eyes took a glassy, faraway look.

"You know, I had a sister," he started reluctantly. "Her name was Elena."

Julian didn't say anything, though he kept watching the blond engineer, obviously not as indifferent toward what he had to say than in their earlier conversation.

John slightly shook his head as he continued. "I… don't know what happened to her. She was thirteen the last time I saw her. That was about two years ago. It's the reason why I was still working for Telac. You know, Elena was my half sister. When we arrived at Velurin some years ago it was paradise at first. But then she vanished – though I was unmistakably told who was behind it."

"Telac?"

John nodded. "He had me do everything he wanted. If I didn't, he'd hurt her. At least he told me so. That's why I stayed, endured Telac's moods and treatment. But the truth is, I never saw her again. She just vanished. I haven't given up hope yet that perhaps I'll find her, that I didn't pass the last few years in vain…"

Shaking his head, a small sad smile fell on John's face. "I think it was hope that helped me persevere. You need hope in your life, that's what keeps you going. Hope that sometimes everything becomes better, hope that dire times won't last forever…"

When Julian didn't answer, the young engineer cast a quick look at the chronometer and involuntarily winced. Putting the cup on the small table he sighed.

"I think we ought to go."

* * *

He didn't want to go. He didn't want to leave his quarters. Although he had known that once the time would come, he somehow had avoided the thought for the last two days. John's words came as a violent and unexpected blow, taking Julian's breath all at once, speeding his pulse up to almost unbearable beating. 

He was save here. Nothing could protect him from being hurt if he left…

But still he knew that it was impossible. He had to keep the appointment with Counselor Telnorri. His former crewmates wouldn't probably be too appreciative if he didn't and the last thing he wanted was to upset them. As long as he followed their rules – as long as he _had_ to follow them – they wouldn't bother him. Trying hard to get his upwelling emotions back under control, Julian shut down every distracting, anxious thought as he reluctantly drew himself up.

He caught up with John but hesitated when the slender door in front of him suddenly whooshed open, revealing the brightly lit corridor behind – as well as some young Bajoran officers, walking together and chattering cheerfully as they made their way past the two of them. Julian instinctively stopped behind the threshold, his eyes slightly narrowed, waiting for the others to pass.

Noting Julian's unexpected reluctance, John slowly went back to his side, gently reaching out for the young doctor's arm for reassurance.

However, even before John could actually touch him, Julian jerked abruptly back, an expression of sudden but fast-suppressed panic crossing his pale features.

"I… I can walk by myself. I don't need your help," he managed awkwardly, backing up another subtle step as he couldn't take his eyes off the other young man.

Nodding, John held up both hands in a – what he thought or better hoped – reassuring gesture. "Ok, Julian, then let's go."

Julian tried hard to overcome the paralyzing panic that had laid itself upon him the very moment John had tried to seize his arm. _No, not _seize, he scolded himself as he finally brought himself to take John's cue and caught up with the young engineer. _He just wants to reassure me. He just wants to help…_

But no matter how much he knew that John never intended to harm or threaten him in any way, Julian just couldn't fight down the feeling. He didn't want to be touched. Neither by any medical personal nor by anybody else. And that included John. He never wanted to be touched again…

Making his way through the almost empty corridors of the station's habitat ring, he involuntarily wondered if things had always been so dark, bulky and -- frightening. The walls, the ceiling, even the floor. Somehow the thought had never crossed his mind before but in this very moment he couldn't remember the reason that had held him enthralled in this bleak, gray, dark metal cave during all the past years. He should have known from the start. Ugly things foreboded an ugly future. He should have learnt that lesson well enough so many times in the past but still he wouldn't have listened. Seeking new adventures, new challenges – damn, he had been so naïve…

As they rounded another corner, one of Odo's security men came towards them, greeting as he passed the two men. John politely reciprocated, whereas Julian was too absorbed in his own thoughts than to even notice. Ever following John, he involuntarily kept always staying a step behind, his heart not ceasing to pound heavily in his chest.

_Like the first time I'd been led there..._

The thought so swiftly crossed his dulled mind that it took Julian actually a few seconds to grasp the full meaning of the few, simply-thought words. Feeling his stomach turn at the mere memory, he involuntarily quickened his steps. Better to end this way as fast as possible.

When they entered the turbolift that should lead them to the second level, Julian hesitated a short moment, then stepped in after John. He kept his eyes fixed on the door until it shut and the lift lurched downwards, making Julian abruptly grab for the railings as a sudden attack of nausea threatened to make his legs give way.

"You're alright?" John worriedly asked, already about to save Bashir from collapsing. Julian looked even paler than only minutes before, his eyes betraying the helpless fear and pain he so desperately tried to hide.

"I'm…I'm fine", Julian hurriedly lied, straightening as he tried to get his heartbeat back under control.

"You're not Julian", the young engineer held with furrowed brows, now turning his whole attention to the startled young man in front of him. He knew that something definitely was wrong with Julian. "What is it?"

Bashir barely showed any reaction at all, slightly shaking his had dismissively, though it was hard not to notice that he couldn't bring forth a single word – even if he wanted.

Julian tried frantically to convince himself that he wasn't going back. He was on DS9, in one of its turbolifts, heading for the second level. _He wasn't going back_. He never would be again…

"It's nothing… really," he somehow managed as he turned towards the door, ignoring John and his worried expression and praying that it wouldn't take too long to reach the second level…

The sudden arrival at their destination saved the young man from any further explanations as he hastily dashed out of the lift and into the corridor – thought only a split second later he realized that he had gotten out of the frying pan and into the freezer. Stumbling a few steps ahead, driven by his own momentum, he froze at the very spot where he came to a halt. Nothing could have prepared him for the surge of nausea that came washing over him the very instant he saw him.

_Sisko._

The dark, looming, towering figure of his former captain was standing only a few meters in front of him, obviously as taken aback as Julian was – Lieutenant Dax next to him, having interrupted their little conversation the same moment the young doctor had come rushing out of the turbolift.

Julian felt thunder-struck, his eyes growing ever larger with incredulity as his mind desperately tried to catch up with the new, unexpected situation.

Sisko. _God, anybody, but not Sisko!_

And from one moment to the other he was there again. It was as if nothing that had happened afterwards was of any real matter. Neither his rescue, nor the time he had spent on the Defiant, least of all that he had been home. It didn't matter that he had tried to forget, that he had avoided the situation ever since. That he had tried to live up to his old life. From one moment to the other he was there again. In the cellar. Telac next to him, hissing words so poisonous and devastating. Julian's own shaky hands clutching the tiny device that would ultimately destroy his own life. His captain's eyes, so wistful and begging in front of him, urging him to stop the cruel and coldblodded deed he was about to commit. And yet again he was powerless. Yet again he was reminded of how fragile, how powerless, will less and how very unworthy of life he was.

Staring in pure bewilderment at the very man he once had looked up to, the man he so consciously had deprived of life, Julian's mouth frantically worked, though the words were stuck somewhere deep down in his throat.

Locking his eyes with the captain's – even the tiny moment it was – made yet another hesitantly rebuild world shatter into millions of pieces, driving Julian to the verge of panic.

"…no…", he managed in a hoarse whisper. He just wanted it to stop. If he could just lose them again. If he could just lose those memories again. But he knew that the nightmare would never ever come to an end. Not for him.

"Julian…" Sisko held both hands up, nearing the young man ever so slowly, though it was the decisive action that made Julian finally overcome his horror.

Everything within him was urging him to run. He couldn't face Sisko, he couldn't face Dax, nor could he ever face anyone who had known the former Dr. Julian Bashir again. He once had betrayed them, he would never again be able to look into the face of any of them. Least of all Sisko…

He didn't want them to come any nearer. The air was so stifling and thick, he hardly was able to breath. With a last desperate look he realized John reaching out for him – and jerked violently back, almost tripping over his own feet as he frantically tried to keep his balance. Without another word he turned his back on them – and broke into a desperate run.

* * *

"When do you think the Rio Grande's upgrades will be finished?" 

Sisko's leisure way of walking stood in some contrast to his matter-of-fact tone as he and the lieutenant made their way to shuttle bay four. In fact he felt pretty much at ease, happy to be back home even if the backlog of paper work had driven him out of his office the first chance that had presented itself to him. Taking a look at the upgraded Rio Grande or at least at the ongoing procedures was a welcome change in the station's monotone daily life.

However, he knew better than to complain. Wasn't it just a few days ago that he had been yearning for his normal life back at the station? That he would have even given his career in Starfleet to come back to his old life, to leave all those seemingly insurmountable problems behind? No, he wouldn't complain about a little bit of paper work now, no matter how boring or tiring it may be. One said that you only know what you had when you've already lost it… Well, he had been given a second chance – and he was resolute to take it.

"The shuttle's maintaining crew's reports say they'll need just a few couple of hours more. The Rio Grande should be back to use within the day."

Sisko nodded, relieved that things started to work yet again as they should. Smiling absently he said: "It's good to hear that."

Dax returned the genuine smile of relief, then directed her gaze back down the long corridor as she kept walking next to him.

"Have I mentioned, that it's good to be back home?" he said, again in a half-smile and a somewhat dreamy expression on his once so stern face.

The young Trill chuckled slightly. "I'll remind you the next time you start throwing PADDs across the room."

Sisko abruptly stopped, not sure what to think about Jadzia's last statement. Stemming both hands to his hips, he watched her carefully. "You spied."

Shaking her head and trying to suppress a smile, she turned to face him. "The door of your office is transparent."

"It…" Benjamin shrugged in defiance, "… was just one time. And I really was furious then."

"And the other time, you shouted at Admiral LeGrand?" The young woman asked with arched brows.

Resuming walking, Sisko just shrugged once more. "At least I didn't throw things…"

"If you say so…"

They rounded the corner in direction towards the docking ring, as Jadzia's face once again became stern and concentrated – as always when she was about to dredge up some unpleasant details of her previous hosts' memories.

"To the best of my recollection your impulsiveness had always been some troublesome point for Curzon. He never…"

She abruptly trailed off as she almost bumped into Benjamin who had stopped in mid-stride without warning. Stepping next to him, her eyes slightly widened as she saw the young man dashing out of the turbolift only a few meters in front of them. Stumbling he came to a halt when his eyes suddenly fell upon the two newcomers.

He looked distracted, a bit confused until his mind seemed to catch up on the new situation. It was the same reaction she once had witnessed down in the tunnels of Velurin, when John and she had found him in one of the deserted rooms. His face without the slightest tint of color, he stood at the very spot he had stopped on.

And only a moment later John left the lift behind Julian, obviously as stunned about Julian's sudden stillness as everybody else. They were on their way to Counselor Telnorri…. She had asked John to accompany his friend, because she hadn't wanted to overwhelm Julian with all the new impressions. She had thought that perhaps it would be easier for the young doctor if there was someone familiar there for him…

Julian seemed to get so still and stiff that he barely breathed any more. Staring at Sisko and her in paralysis, the young man was obviously on the verge of panic.

_God, no, not now…_ It was exactly the thing she had been trying to avoid ever since she had learnt of Julian's trauma. She knew what horrifying a shock it had to be for the young man to meet his captain so unexpected and without forewarn after all what had happened – and obviously Benjamin did, too, for he slowly raised both hands in a somewhat calming gesture.

"Julian…." He started, cautiously nearing the startled young man, when Julian suddenly seemed to overcome his paralysis. Jerking abruptly back from John, he tried hard to not to fall over, casting them a look that was enough to make all alarms ring in Jadzia's mind.

And without another word, he spun around and broke yet again into a run.

"Julian!"

He didn't react to Sisko's call, nor did he even once look back over his shoulder – until he was gone around the corner.

"Damn!"

Sisko was already about to set off behind Bashir, when Jadzia suddenly grabbed his arm, holding him back as she decidedly shook her head.

"I'll see to him," John hurriedly said before he made his way behind Julian, leaving the two Starfleet officers standing solely in the middle of the corridor.

Sisko's voice was barely more than a whisper when he spoke up after a long, stifling silence.

"He'll never overcome it…"

He wasn't happy with that realization. If they had just found him earlier... If they had just been able to prevent Telac from the cruel torment he had done to Bashir. Shaking his head, Sisko tried to focus on reality again. They hadn't. And that alone was of any importance right now.

Feeling a warm, reassuring hand on his shoulder he turned to see into the young Trill's gentle, commiserate face. She knew how he was feeling, and she was as much worried about Julian as he was.

"He won't…until you help him."

Startled and confused, he couldn't quite follow her.

"He's dreading me, Old Man. He's panicking the very moment he just thinks I'm getting any closer to him." Voicing loud the thoughts that had kept nagging at him, was in some way a relief – though they didn't hurt any less. Julian being afraid of his own captain – of him – was indeed a startling, saddening thought. Benjamin still could recall a time when everything Julian had wanted to do was impress his commanding officer. He had seen him as some sort of mentor, as some sort of ideal of a Starfleet officer. Seeing the young man now so frightened and horrified by his mere presence that he was actually more willing to hurt himself than to face his horror was more than scaring a thought… It was as if Telac had not only inflicted wounds on Julian – but also indirectly on everybody who once had been close to the young man.

"He's traumatized, Benjamin. It's not his choice, after all. At least not his deliberate. You should talk to him. I'd guess there's a lot to get worked out between you two…"

Staring down the corridor, down the same direction Julian had vanished into only moments before, he knew that she was right. They had to do something.

"If we wait too long…" Jazida started solemnly.

"…it might be too late." Sisko nodded, straightening his uniform as he squared his shoulders for what was to come.

"It's not that he doesn't want to be back home," the young Trill said. "He does. I can see it every time he looks at me, at anything that reminds him of what he had been before. But he's also afraid, cause he won't fit in any longer. And there's you…"

"So he runs away. Even if that means death." Sisko's voice was carrying a slight tint of disappointment.

"You shouldn't blame him, Benjamin. Running away was everything that has kept him alive so far…"

Sisko hurriedly shook his head. "I could never blame him, Old Man. And I would never even dare. But it's just that it's not like Julian. Not like _our_ Julian. Our Dr. Julian Bashir would never run away, he'd stand his ground and face his problems, no matter how dire the circumstances. At least I've always seen him like this. Julian just isn't the type to become as distracted and unpredictable as he is now."

Squeezing his shoulder, Dax managed a weak smile. "It is our Julian. His passion and zeal, his youthfulness and naivete, it's still there." Her smile dropped when she lowered her gaze. "But it's turned into the wrong direction. It's all directed at himself, that's why he almost collapses under the pressure that's lasting on him right now. It's _because of _his righteousness and naivete that he can't cope with his world – his entire life – having been beaten and twisted against him."

He looked at her, taking in her words as he added his own thoughts to her point of view. But it made sense. And if he had been the decisive point in Julian's ordeal – so perhaps that meant that he was able to bring him a step further back to his old life – towards life anyway. Perhaps he was able to change things. If not he, who else? And when there was one person under such experiences who was reasonable enough to understand what he had to say, it was Julian…

"You're right. The sooner we get it over, the better."

* * *

Julian was cowering on the couch, both legs drawn to his chest, his arms clutched tightly around them. His breath came still ragged and chopped but at least the rushing blood in his ears had subsided to a somewhat bearable degree, making it for the first time possible to actually hear things again… 

One thing was John's worried but muffled voice through the thick layer of the door, though Julian tried to ignore it the best he could. At least _John_ didn't have any access to his quarters. He didn't despise of any security code to override the door block… That still left him a few minutes before security would come rushing in, alarmed by either the young engineer or Sisko and Dax. To his luck, Lieutenant Sharun hadn't been there when he so unexpectedly came back – that just left John outside, shouting in distress and begging Julian to open the door. Every wild knock on the door made the young doctor's heart tighten further.

It was too much for Julian.

Grabbing one of the cushions at random he frantically threw it across the door, aiming at the imaginary John at the other side of the metal layer.

He wanted to scream, to shout at them to leave him alone, to shout at them that he didn't need any of their intrusions, that he never wanted to see any of them again. He wanted to shout at Telac, to hurt that bastard as deeply as he had hurt him. To yell at Sisko and Dax that they never even ought to near or touch him again. He wanted to burst into tears, to break down onto the floor and weep as he had never wept before.

But still it was impossible for the terror of having met Sisko kept his mind and body in insurmountable paralysis. He couldn't move, couldn't let out the feelings that he had kept keyed up inside his heart ever since his will, his very being had been so easily broken. It was impossible to voice his thoughts, more so to vent his anger and hatred – because deep down in his heart he knew that the anger was mislead. It was him, and only him, who had once taken the wrong decision. It had been him who had not been able to stop a crisis from developing. It had been him who was accountable for everything that had followed…

More than ever he wanted to end it. Even if it meant ending his very life.

When the door chime finally resounded from the dark walls of his silent quarters, he didn't care to answer. Still not moving from the spot on the couch his body tensed, though he knew in the same instant that he was absolutely helpless if anybody decided to override the security code and come in.

He was helpless… again…

Julian no longer heard John's irritated voice – but commands being pushed into the tiny device controlling access to his quarters.

When the door all of a sudden whooshed open, simultaneously revealing the towering figure behind, Julian held his breath, wishing desperately to die at the very spot he sat on.

_Sisko._

Julian sat up at once, not taking his dilated eyes of the man who was now filling the doorway. Every muscle, every fiber of his paralyzed body was urging him to run away, though his legs just wouldn't obey. He couldn't move. Panting heavily for breath, Julian was on the verge of panicking again.

And then he came nearer, driving Bashir to jump up in a moment's notice and stumble behind one of the chairs next to the couch. At least he had something between them. Something to hide. Something to protect him from the phantom of his deadliest nightmare. Never missing a single movement the captain made, Bashir watched him like a trapped rabbit in front of a snake.

"Julian, we need to talk."

Sisko stopped some meters away, obviously aware that his mere presence was almost driving the young man mad.

"No," Bashir yelled uncontrolled.

Sisko didn't let himself be distracted by Julian's obvious refusal and continued: "I know what happened, Julian." His voice was mild and sympatric, even carrying a slight tint of sadness. "I know why you keep avoiding me, why you ran away in the corridor. I know what Telac did to you, how he's abused you for his own plans and I'm also aware of what _you'_re planning to do. We have to talk about it."

Shaking his head in short staccato movements, Julian kept his voice low, finally finding enough courage to speak up. His hoarse whisper came out as a threatening stab, carrying much of his inner hatred he tried so desperately to hold back. "You don't know _anything_, Captain. You never were there. You don't know what happened. No one does. You can't tell me you understand. Because you don't."

"You're right, I wasn't there. I never went through the things you did; but I know what I saw and I won't let Telac destroy the man we've been looking for for over three months. We never gave up hope to find you alive, Julian. And finally we found you. We even managed to bring you back home. I don't want to lose you now – I don't want to give up on you – because of what Telac did to you."

"He didn't do anything!" Julian almost shouted, incredulous about what he heard from Sisko. It was mad. Sisko so apparently concerned for his well being. After all what happened. Why couldn't he see? Why could none of them see it? "_I_ did it! It was _me _who did it!"

Sisko could see Bashir's hunched shoulders, his face distorted with hot fury as he kept glaring at the older man.

"That's not true, and you know it! You didn't do anything, Julian. You were never even able to because you never had any choice. Telac forced you to help his plans. He tortured you, Julian; no one would ever expect you to withstand his torment against all rationality. You didn't have any alternative left. Agreeing to help Telac had been the only way for you to survive."

"That's not it!" The young man backed up another meter, shaking violently. Sisko couldn't recall a time when Bashir had ever been so furious before. Dax had been right, seeing the once so rational Bashir like this was more than scaring…

"That's not the point! I killed you! Telac told me to murder my commanding officer, and I did it! It's perverse! No sentient being would have killed an innocent man!" The words sputtered out before Bashir was actually aware of what he was saying. But it was exactly how he felt inside.

"You forget an important point, Julian," Sisko said calmly, not willing to let Bashir go on any further. He had to stop him here and now. Stop him from destroying himself by his distorted, forced view of reality. He knew from his conversation with O'Brien and John that the young man hadn't told the whole story, what had really happened in Telac's captivity – or at least was ignoring the essential part of it.

"You blame yourself for having murdered me – even if it hadn't been reality –…"

"It had been real! For me it had been damn real and if it had happened in reality I would have done the same!" Julian interrupted, barely able to keep himself under control. He tried to fight it back, to fight his emotions back – but the flood of despair and disdain was overwhelming.

"…but do you recall the reason for obeying the order?" Sisko finished the sentence.

Julian just shook his head incredulously, his shoulders still shaking with barely subdued rage. Lost for words in the face of such ignorance, he couldn't answer.

"Was it because Telac tortured you? Because you couldn't endure the torment and concomitant pain any longer?"

Bashir slowly shook his head in pure contempt, attempting to hold himself under control. He still couldn't bring forth a single word.

"Was it because you suddenly realized that giving in to Telac's order would spare you from further torture and finally from death?"

Again Bashir shook his head.

"What was it then that made you obey Telac's order and kill me?" Sisko asked calmly not in the least intending to reproach Julian for what he had done, though speaking about his own death was fairly odd.

The young man didn't move as his gaze fell involuntarily towards the floor, clearly showing Sisko that he had finally come through to Julian. He was still standing motionless in some distance – though his temper seemed to have dropped remarkably.

"He would have killed other people," the young man whispered reluctantly and hoarsely under his breath, his face contorted with pain as if he were still in that room with Telac. Sisko almost thought Bashir would leave it with that until he followed up at length: "He would have killed other innocent people until I'd finally obey his wishes..." Bashir's voice nearly broke.

Suppressing the urge to near Julian any more, Sisko let out a long, sad sigh. "So you did it, because you didn't want other people to die?" he asked gently.

Bashir didn't give any answer, but Sisko knew that he was right.

"You killed one single man, you destroyed one life to save uncountable others. You sacrificed my life in order to prevent further murder," the captain stated, not taking his eyes off Julian, who had become ever more retreated and silent during the past few minutes.

"It was the only thing I could do," Bashir finally managed barely audible, not facing the captain as he awkwardly wiped away the tears that had come filling his eyes ever since Sisko had made him recall events he had long ago tried to forget.

"You didn't do anything, Julian. Not in every situation there's a right or wrong. You did your best to save as many lives you could. You're a doctor, Julian, you sought to keep the damage to a minimum, you did the only thing that prevented further harm from being done."

"I'm sorry," Bashir managed, wiping again with his sleeve over his eyes, "but that's just one way to look at it. The other is, that I'm a monster, a sentient being capable to murder in cold blood. I never thought I could do something like that. I'm a monster, that's the truth you're trying to hide, Captain. You don't even seem to realize what I was saying."

He suddenly looked up, facing the captain with eyes filled with desperate tears, his look so battered and hopeless that it stabbed through Sisko's very heart. "I killed _you._ How could I ever forget what I did? It was _you_ I murdered. It was _your_ life I destroyed. And you don't even seem to care, telling me that none of it had ever happened. But if it had been real, if it had really been you in that cellar – I'd have done the same. I'd have killed you with all my consciousness, deliberately, knowing that it was _you_ whose life I took."

And all of a sudden he seemed to have lost every strength left, his gaze dropping yet again ashamed towards the floor, as the heated fire in his eyes vanished, leaving behind an emptiness that made Sisko involuntarily wince. It was in that instant that he knew that he was nearly about to lose Julian forever.

Without another word, he loosened the phaser from the spot on his hip, quickly tapping the white buttons on its top. And then he offered it to Julian.

The young man flinched when Sisko neared him far enough for Bashir to take the gray weapon he was presented. Hesitantly the young man took it without comment, holding it loosely in one hand in front of his abdomen as if not quite sure what to do with it.

"If you really want to end it, Julian, I'll give you the chance to do it now," Sisko said in a stern voice, only eliciting a confused, anxious look from the young man.

"It's set to kill, you just have to trigger it."

Before Julian could respond anything, the captain already spoke up again. "But before you kill yourself, I want you to shoot me as well."

Startled, Julian cocked up his head, staring at his commanding officer in bewilderment.

"You told me you could not live with the guilt of having sacrificed the life of an innocent man. You want to bring it to an end, so shoot me, too, for neither can I."

Julian shook his head in confusion. "I…"

The captain didn't let him finish though. "When Telac ordered me to give him the data he needed in order to complete his bomb for the wormhole, he also threatened to use you to make us talk. He made me unmistakably realize that he would keep hurting you until I'd finally agree to provide the data. But I couldn't give it to him. I knew that the existence of a whole species was at stake – not to mention the link between the Alpha and Gamma Quadrant. I couldn't give Telac the data, and I instructed Chief O'Brien and Lieutenant Dax not to cooperate, no matter how Telac would use you to make them talk."

Sisko's voice grew milder. "I knew what Telac would do to you, but still I couldn't risk letting him finish his bomb. Even if this decision meant losing you, Julian."

He could see Bashir struggling for words, his shaky hands still clutching the phaser, though Sisko was sure his words had the expected impact on the young man.

"Making this decision wasn't easy for me, Julian, but I tried to save as many lives I could. There was no alternative of good and bad, of making the right or wrong decision. If I had given Telac the data he needed, I'd have doomed the future of our quadrants, as well as the existence of the prophets. But you would have been save. By withholding it from Telac I saved hundreds of lives, but I had to sacrifice yours. I tried to keep the damage to a minimum, tried to save as many people as I could. I forsake you, Julian, but I have to live with that decision. Even if you're save now, nobody could have granted that things would eventually turn out like this. Sometimes we have to make decisions where every path we take means to lose – but still we have to make our choice – and live with that decision."

It was all too much for Julian.

Letting the phaser carelessly drop to the ground he numbly stumbled back, hitting the wall with his back and subsequently gliding down on it. With his face burried into his hands, he seemed so lost to Sisko. So fragile.

"I… I can't go back," he whispered after what seemed an eternity – and it almost sounded like a helpless plea.

Not nearing the young man, Sisko kept standing in the middle of the room.

"No you can't," he firmly said. Then his voice grew mild, even sympatric. "But you can go on."

Rising his head, Julian willed himself to look up to the man he dreaded so much. The man he once had so easily betrayed. Taking in his firm expression, he could see, that Sisko was right. That Sisko had to be right. There was no way back, he would never be able to resume where he had left off… But perhaps – perhaps there was the tiny, puny chance that he could go on, as Sisko had said. Perhaps he could try and find his place again, try to start from a new beginning, try not to make the same mistakes again… It was almost like a salvaging hand reaching out to him, Julian just had to grab it.

Something deep within his heart was hesitating, telling him that it was senseless, that he was unworthy of life, that he didn't even deserve being back home. But still there was a quiet voice, urging him to take that hand, to leave the darkness of the abyss he was about to lose himself in for ever.

And then he saw her.

She was sitting on the couch, her feet dangling towards the ground as she leaned back and watched him with silent blue eyes. Her blonde hair welling down her shoulders, she turned her head to face him, making him wince with the sadness he saw in her expression. She didn't move, just kept watching him – and his reaction – intently as he sat on the floor.

He knew she wasn't real – at least not her appearance now. But somehow her mere presence was comforting in a certain way, reminding Julian of the day some months ago when he had almost given up. He had almost cracked under Telac's torture but she had helped him to persevere. He didn't know why she was there – most likely he was hallucinating due to the stark mental pressure, he realized – but nonetheless he somehow started to relax far enough not to jump up and run away like he had done so many previous times.

He directed his timorous gaze back on Sisko, feeling the heavy, crushing weigh on his chest, the wistfulness to be back home, to be back in warmth and security. And the gentle voice in his mind made him finally make a decision.

Trying to slowly scramble to his feet, Julian braced himself against the wall. Noticing the shadow over him he flinched, then looked up and saw Sisko lend his hand to haul him to his feet. Hesitantly Julian clamped down on the flutter of panic – and took it.

However, he didn't face the captain as they stood side by side, nor did he show any other sign of elation, keeping silent until Sisko finally nodded.

"So this means I don't have to keep assigning security guards to your quarters?"

He almost feared Bashir could change his mind in the eleventh hour, but then the young man slowly shook his head. His voice was quiet, barely more than a whisper. "No, Sir."

"I won't say that everything's going to be alright. It won't. And it will take some time getting used to. But still you're not alone. You have friends and we'll try our best to help you getting through it."

Julian nodded, then lifted his gaze reluctantly far enough to meet Sisko's eyes.

"I… suppose I still have to go to the meetings with Counselor Telnorri…"

"I'm sorry you are. At least until he'll file a recommendation report pronouncing you psychically healthy to resume your official duty."

Sisko saw the young man nod again. He didn't look very convinced yet, still too calm and passive after the sudden initial fire had once again died down. He might have dragged Julian back from the verge of committing suicide, but there was still a long way for him to go to come back to normalcy. However, for the time being Sisko was glad with the achievement. It was more than he could have hoped for… They could build upon this foundation.

"I'll have Dax fix a new time with the Counselor then," the captain said empathically, squeezing lightly Julian's shoulder.

When the young man didn't answer but kept looking out of the viewport, Sisko squared his shoulders. Perhaps – only perhaps – they still had the chance of getting Julian back. It was a small, quick thought, but Sisko couldn't help believing in it in that very moment. Hope. It had been hope that had helped Bashir persevere long enough for them to find him. Perhaps now, hope could create yet another miracle they so desperately longed for.

"I'll go then and tell Mr. Sharun that he can report back to Odo…", Sisko said after a pause, gently padding Bashir's shoulder before he took a deep breath and reluctantly turned to leave the quarters. He knew that Julian needed to be alone…

"If you need something, if you need somebody to talk to… you know where to find me…."

Before he left, Sisko turned one more time. "It's good to have you back, Julian."

It was not until the door whooshed closed behind the captain, that Bashir actually moved. Inhaling deeply he let himself sink to the ground the very spot he stood on, drawing both knees tightly to his chest and laying his head tiredly on top of them.

He didn't know what to think, what to believe, how to feel. He didn't know if he actually _wanted_ to feel anything at all.

Forgiveness.

Somehow it didn't feel as one would expect. But things never turn out to be as one had imagined, did they?

…_It's good to have you back, Julian…_

…_It's good to have you back…_


	9. Chapter 8

**Hidden Memories – Chapter 8**

The next days passed in an almost ghostly routine.

Most of the time he spent in his quarters, the early hours reserved for his meetings with Counselor Telnorri, packed with a lot of questions he would have liked to never be asked. Remembering things still hurt a lot – but speaking about them was almost impossible. So he kept stalling whenever there was a chance to, telling the counselor things he wanted to hear, avoiding his real feelings as far as possible…

Inside himself, he felt sorry for giving the older Bajoran counselor such difficult times. Julian knew – he'd never made quite an easy patient before either. But no matter how much he knew that counseling was exactly the thing he would have prescirbed himself if it had been someone of his patients who had experienced things like he had – being the one to answer those questions changed things a lot. He didn't want any help. And he didn't need any. There wasn't much to talk about or to clarify anyway. The only thing he longed for was being left alone. Being left alone so he could banish what had happened out of his mind, gaining a puny, brief respite before it all broke back upon him in yet another moment of inattention…

When he came back from their sessions it was usually time for lunch, though Julian never felt hungry. Sometimes he ate, sometimes he just sat on the couch musing upon if he could ever forget those past three months. The PADDs he had retrieved from the drawer the morning when John had come to accompany him to his first session with the counselor were still lying on the very spot Julian had shoved them at, their displays black and lifeless. He hadn't touched them again since that morning.

Once in a while somebody came to see him, though he couldn't say he was glad about it. Luckily those visits were short and far in between. Obviously they had decided to give him as much time as he needed to feel back at home.

If it were that easy… 

He talked with them – never about what had happened, though – but all he desired was to be left alone. He wasn't restricted to his quarters but mostly remained there all the same. When he was alone he tried to sleep – though sleep never came. He didn't know how long he was lying awake, not able to leave reality behind, not able to glide into that vast darkness of sleep. He hadn't told Telnorri, though he must have remarked his tired expression; how Julian often leaned back during their conversations and ran two fingers over the back of his nose, trying not to rub his strained eyes and let him know that he had barely slept the night before.

Yes, his life had come back to routine, to everyday life, but it wasn't the same anymore. He tried to reintegrate, he tried to take on where he had left off – but somehow things just didn't go the right way. If he just didn't have so much time to think about everything. The few hours asleep were filled with nightmares and even awake he was never able to push the ever-lingering uneasiness aside. Sometimes he woke in the middle of the night – panting heavily, his body bathed in sweat, his heart racing merciless in his aching chest; It was always in those dark, dreadful moments that Julian – disorientated and lost at first – was already expecting to see Telac standing in the opposite door frame. Watching him and grinning his perfect, sadistic smile. No matter how much he knew that he no longer was in Telac's immediate clutch – who could have granted him that this was not yet another of Telac's perverse illusions to trick him into yet another false feeling of security?

If he just had something to concentrate on, if he could just finally find again what had been lost during those past months – what had been taken from him. Something he needed for life. Something he never really had considered that he was able to lose, before.

He still tried to avoid Sisko whenever possible. Speaking about what had happened between both of them had helped a lot. He still could recall his captain's words, telling him that it hadn't been his fault, that no matter his twisted truth of reality, Julian was not to blame himself for what had happened on Felan III. That everything had been an accident.

_Accident…that's one way to describe it._

But still he didn't feel up to face Sisko any more than he had to. So trying to avoid his captain – as well as his friends – had become an essential part of his daily routine. And it wasn't even that hard to accomplish. Everybody was busy. With their work. With the Dominion. With keeping this very station running. It wasn't that hard to go unnoticed and Julian was glad for it. Still torn between helplessness and indifference, Julian somehow managed to pass hour by hour, day by day.

Somehow eluding his friends, the very people who had cared so much about him, who had finally come for his rescue, the very people who had ended Telac's nightmare, felt wrong. The feeling of guilt whenever he tried to avoid O'Brien's call, pretending to be asleep, pretending to be at the session with Counselor Telnorri, stabbed hard through his heart. But after what had happened in the cellar – after he had thought Miles had been killed – Julian just didn't feel up to face his former friend any longer. And neither did he feel up to meet John.

He knew it was wrong. He knew that Dax and O'Brien, Kira, John and all the other just wanted to help. But Julian wasn't sure he wanted their help. Not any longer; for nothing could grant him, that his trust wouldn't yet again be futile. He was on his own…

So he kept musing upon things. And tried to reintegrate into his old life.

* * *

"My dear doctor, you've barely touched your food at all. What's wrong with the pasta today? Some sort of replicator malfunctioning? I thought you liked Italian food – wouldn't it be a better idea to call Chief O'Brien?"

Garak was watching his dining companion with an expression hovering between worry and amusement, as he pointed casually towards the young man's still full loaded dining plate. Julian had chosen some noodles at random, not very keen on dining anyway. Letting his gaze wander over the promenade's lower level, the young man barely seemed to notice the ironic undertone that was accompanying the tailors last words.

"There's no need to. The pasta is fine," Julian replied vaguely as he kept stabbing noodles at random, shoving them from one side of the plate to the other – only that there wasn't that much space to move them around for there wasn't much missing of the original composition.

"Well, than most probably it is something about our present dining place."

Julian lifted his gaze to cast Garak a quizzical look, but the tailor simply flashed another one of his hard-to-interpret smiles as he focused his attention back to his Cardassian _Soub,_ took a fork-load of the brown, thick mass but hesitated then, as if anticipating his friend's following question.

"What do you mean?" Julian non-charlantly leaned back, posing his fork next to the almost untouched dinner.

"But doctor, isn't it obvious. You somehow don't feel at ease. All those passers-by you keep squinting at. And you haven't even touched your food. I thought after the time in confinement you would savor the taste of real, terranean food."

Bashir seemed to get stiff at that, turning to watch some Bajoran civilians leaving the airlock next to them. It was still late morning – they had dinner to a quite different time than they usually used to – but even though there had only been a few singular customers around the replimat the time they had arrived, the place was now gradually filling with more and more people. Garak was right, he wasn't at ease with their present location, though Julian would never allow himself to admit it. It was just that a quieter surrounding would have been easier on him – after he had spent most of the last days alone, anyway. Noisy, crowded places just made him uneasy…

Trying not to squint at all those newcomers now lining up in front of the replicator, he directed his gaze back towards the Cardassian tailor, trying to focus his attention back on the conversation. "I had real food, Garak," he retorted warily at length.

"Oh, really? And I've always thought that it's the rough treatment that qualifies being a prisoner." Garak once again flashed his enigmatic smile, making Julian feel more and more closed in. But it was only about some minutes more until Garak would finally have finished the last remainings of the Soub. Julian could endure that.

"They had… different ways," the young doctor simply said, not keen on letting Garak intrude in private things that were none of his business. "I had food – at least most of the time."

"Then I guess you were quite lucky."

"I wouldn't actually call it luck." Julian folded both hands defensively in front of his chest, trying not to respond to Garaks obvious teasing as he instead kept watching the various passers-by. Surveying all the bulky struts, the weak illumination, the promenade suddenly seemed to have lost a great deal of its vastness. Had it always been that crowded on DS9? He hadn't noticed before. But… he hadn't noticed so many other things before, either.

"But you're here. Fate must have decided in favor of you. If you're not believing in luck, you perhaps do believe in fate?" Replacing the fork on the empty plate, Garak took up time to retrieve the napkin from his lap, folded it delicately before he placed it back on the tray.

"Fate didn't have to do anything with it," Julian impatiently said. He was already about to add some further words, but suddenly held back.

_It's not worth the trouble. He wouldn't understand anyway._

"So have you met Dr. Selaran yet? She's a quite beautiful woman. A bit too honest and naïve, but still very pretty – for a human," Garak suddenly changed topics, gesturing vaguely toward the infirmary with his fork.

His words made Julian involuntarily flinch, quickening his heart in a moment's notice as his gaze reluctantly followed Garak's, then darted back toward his plate the next second.

"No," he succinctly retorted, about to dredge himself up and retrieve the tray with his untouched food. He hadn't been to the infirmary. At least not after he had been released almost two weeks ago. Not yet. And he probably would never be again…

"Tell me, doctor, you once used to be a more talkative person, didn't you?"

Cocking up his head in disbelief, Julian stared at the Cardassian. Garak's self-righteous smile was like slap across the face. Trying to keep his temper low, Julian's grip around the rim of the tray tightened as he tried not to let his composure slip. Arguing with the Cardassian about things like that – private things – just wasn't worth the trouble; but still Garak's words hurt more deeply that the tailor probably knew.

Placing the tray back on the table, Julian propped himself onto it. "Look Garak, I'm just dining here with you because Telnorri asked me to do so. I'm sorry if I'm no longer the _talkative _person you prefer to have in your company. It wasn't my choice."

He wanted to say so much more, the words already on the fore, Julian barely able to hold them back. But somehow he couldn't, swallowing them back as he inhaled deeply. Garak sitting in front of him, nagging at him and teasing him that he wasn't the same person he used to be. How could he even expect Julian to go on as if nothing had ever happened? How could he just sit there, his smug face so arrogant, so inquiring, so… self satisfied, blaming Julian for not being the same person like before? Why did everyone expect him to be that easy-structured?

"If I didn't know you, I'd say you just insulted me," Garak cautiously pointed out.

When Bashir didn't respond, Garak just nodded. "I see, our dear doctor has lost some of his naivete."

Even before the young man could open his mouth in an angry response, Garak had already lifted the cup of tea to his lips, and said – before he took another great gulp of the lukewarm berry-scented beverage: "So when are you going to see Dr. Selaran?"

Slightly stunned, Julian instinctively turned his gaze toward the promenade and the long row of stalls, the temple and –

"I won't," Bashir cut it short, completely ignoring the curious but dismayed looks some of the other visitors of the replimat shot him. Most likely they must have overheard, now slightly incredulous about the news that had presumably already spread through the whole space station and which they had witnessed to be affirmed first hand now. It was amazing, how fast rumors were spread…

"Well, I can't say that I'm a very good counselor, but if you want to talk about what's happened…?" Garak offered at length, intently locking his eyes with Julian's.

"I don't need your help!" Julian snapped instantly back, angry about the fact that Garak's questions rather had the quality of an interrogation about them. But he was good at it. Julian had forgotten how good an inquisitor the Cardassian spy could be.

"I'm sorry to break it to you, doctor, but obviously you do." Garak's smile lost all of its humor; and behind the façade of non-chalant hiding play Julian recognized for the first time that there was more to the Cardassian's conversation. He wasn't completely sure – he never was with Garak anyway – but it might have been worry that was now glinting in Garak's intense, blue eyes.

"I'll see to that myself. Thank you." Bashir got up without another word and gathered the tray from the table, his face all at once more pallid than it had been before. He tried to stay calm, tried not to let Garak's words cut any deeper. He didn't need Garak's help. Not any longer.

As the young man turned wordlessly his back on the Cardassian, Garak got up, too, when a sudden, chopped cry filled the air, accompanied by the unnaturally loud rattle of shattered glass. Julian instinctively whirled around and looked up in surprise – as did about everybody present.

The cry came from the direction of Quark's and only moments later another croaky voice cried out. This time in surprise and dismay. Only seconds later Quark came tumbling out of the bar, searching desperately for somebody to help, a look of sheer terror on his swollen face.

"Medical emergency. I need someone in here. Someone call medical personel!"

The little Ferengi shouted at the top of his voice, gesticulating wildly, as he frantically scanned the environment for someone able to get things back under control. Several of the passers-by milling about the promenade, closed in, everybody as stunned and lost at the sight as his or her neighbor. Some seconds later, a Bolian drunkard came stumbling out of the bar, nearly tripping over his own feet as he tried to find a somewhat coherent way through the door to Quark's bar.

"Hold him! He's to pay for the table!"

Some of the Constable's security men were already running towards the din, phasers drawn and prepared for every ostensible emergency that required their immediate attention. Most of the people almost instantly shied away at the sight of a drawn weapon, allowing a passage for the newly arrived security personal, some of which took care of the drunken Bolian while others made their way into the bar.

Julian was still standing next to the table, fingers clutched tightly around the rims of his tray, as he kept staring incredulously at the messy sight that had spread across the promenade only seconds before.

"Sounds like trouble," Garak solemnly commented, not tearing his gaze away from the direction everyone was staring in. Some more people had already stopped to watch intently what was happening down next to and inside of Quark's, eyes large and unsure what to expect or if there was any immediate danger.

"You better hurry, my dear doctor," the Cardassian said slowly as he turned to face Bashir, one brow arched meaningfully.

Flinching, Julian reluctantly turned, already about to bring his tray back to the replicator and decard it there, when a firm grip closed around his wrist, thus preventing him from turning his back at the situation.

"Doctor Bashir," Garak insisted.

Almost reflexively yanking himself free, Julian tried to keep his balance. "Stop calling me that!"

He hastily moved toward the replicator, depositing his untouched dish into the recycler as he kept ignoring what was going on around him. Garak had already followed up, moving in closer on the young man.

"Doctor, you're needed over there. _Someone_ might need you. There might be someone injured. You can't ignore that."

Garak's voice was mild but insitent. He stopped several meters in front of Julian.

"I'm not in charge anyway!" Julian sputtered out defensively. "There's Dr. Selaran. She'll do the job."

Keeping perfectly controlled, Garak focused his whole attention on Julian. "I remember you once told me that being a doctor is not a matter of being in charge or not."

Bashir froze on the very spot he stood on, gazing incredulously at the Cardassian tailor. It took some moments before he actually spoke. When he did, Julian's word seemed to come from far far away.

"I'm not a doctor anymore, Garak. I thought I had made that clear enough." Bashir's voice was slightly trembling, though his outer appearance kept steady.

"I don't think this is the right moment for self-chastising, my dear doctor," Garak chuckled without the slightest hint of amusement. "They're needing you."

Casting a last glance towards the messy crowd, Julian's face contorted into a faint grimace. He kept staring in their direction for several more seconds before he finally whispered under his breath: "But where were they, when _I_ needed them…"

And without another word he whirled around, parting through the crowd of customers at the replimate who had doubtlessly overheard their tiny conversation. He didn't even turn once more but left Garak stand alone next to the replicator as he hurriedly started for the airlock that lead to the Habitat Ring.

* * *

As soon as he had arrived at his quarters, Julian Bashir instantly locked the door, made his way toward the couch and its table and almost immediately collapsed onto the soft mattress. Running both hands over his sweaty face, he could hardly grasp what he had just done; what he would have never done before in his life – in his former life. About a deed so reckless, so uncaring and wrong; so utterly deviating from the principles he had always held dear.

He knew it had been wrong. He knew it. _Knew it!_

Trembling, he futilely tried to regather some coherent thoughts – but all he could think of was the tearing and stabbing feeling of guilt. He shouldn't have run away like this. God, he should have stayed to do what he once had obliged his life to.

He knew he had disappointed people. He had abandoned people. He had deliberately put people into immeasurable danger. Garak had been right – he ought to have helped, no matter his personal feelings. But something had held him back, had struck him with terror, had made it impossible for him to keep dwelling there any second longer.

That person, that Julian Bashir back at the replimat hadn't been him. That person hadn't been him any more! Or had it been himself? Was that what he was now, what there was left of his former self? An uncaring monster? How could he even have thought of running away like this?

His heart was still beating painfully in his chest, the anguish in it almost unbearable. Torn between guilt and despair he curled up into a fetal position, arms clutched tightly around his body, eyes closed against a threatening reality he had already lost himself in.

He didn't know what to think, what to believe. His world had once shattered into hunderets of thousands of pieces – it was impossible to put them back together. No matter how hard he tried, how often anybody told him, that it hadn't been his fault what had happened on Felan III, no matter how hard he tried to defy the current of life that constantly tried to drown him in its floods of despair – Julian would never get his life back.

He hadn't wanted to see it. There had been the tiny hope that Sisko had been right, that he would be able to go on. But he knew things would never be like before.

And Telac had been right. He _was_ a monster, not even worth being allowed to be back home. Even after he had murdered Sisko, after he had murdered the little girl, Jadzia and O'Brien, he would selfishly put so many other lives at stake like he had done the moment the crisis on the promenade had taken complete possession of his actions.

He didn't even want to imagine Jadzia's reaction when she learned of his inappropriate behavior. Or the reaction of Sisko, of O'Brien….

The more he tried to come back to them, the more he got separated. And there was no way out.

It was like there was a invisible noose, tightening ever further around his neck. And after what had just happened, there wasn't much space left to go…

* * *

Fortunately – or unfortunately – no one seemed to care too much about Bashir's cold reaction toward the incident. He later learnt from Counselor Telnorri that no one had seriously been injured and that all the trouble had just originated when one drunkard had started to complain too loud about his neighbor who hadn't been very appreciative about the insults either. Inebriate as well, he had started to smash some of Quark's glasses, before both of them had lost themselves in a laborious fighting. Not too extraordinary a case. Dr. Selaran had tended the wound of the Bolian's fighting partner while the drunken Bolian himself had spent the rest of the night in confinement.

However, it was the decisive moment that made Julian cancel any further lunch meetings with Garak. He never wanted to be brought into a similar situation again. And what was more important: He didn't want to see _Garak_ again…

It was another evening of boredom that made Julian restless and somewhat anxious. Pacing up and down his quarters, absorbed in his meandering thoughts, he startled when he heard the sudden chime in his back, instantaneously whirling around, not sure who to expect to such an unusal time.

"It's open," he simply said, involuntarily backing up another two meters away from the door, perplexed over the sudden visitor he had least of all expected to see.

It was Jadzia, offering a broad, genuine smile as she stepped over the threshold. Swiftly scanning his quarters, she nodded. "I thought I would find you here."

Bashir didn't share her smile as he waited for her to voice her business. "Where else should I be?" He knew he sounded too defensive, but he didn't really care. There it was again. This feeling of cool detachedness as soon as he was dealing with one of his former comrades. The same, even repulsive feeling that had also come to the fore during his conversation with Garak…

"In the holosuite? Visiting Quark's? Having lunch with Garak?" the young Trill simply said, her tone more indulging than reproaching. "You haven't been out of your quarters for a while, Julian."

He instinctively flinched at the sound of his own name. "I'm fine here," Bashir defended himself, turning around and walking over to the couch before he slowly let himself drop onto it, flexing absently his fingers.

"Perhaps you are, but still socializing is not as bad an idea as you may think." Jadzia followed the young man, taking a seat in one of the chairs to his left.

"I'm not afraid of meeting other people, if you're alluding to that."

"I didn't say so. But apart from the meetings with Counselor Telnorri you haven't left your quarters for two weeks. We're worried about you. You can't avoid seeing your friends once in a while," Jadzia sighed.

She knew about the incident on the promenade. He could tell from the sad shimmer in her eyes. But why should he have expected otherwise? Of course Garak had told her. He was _worried_ about Julian…

"So you came here to keep me company?" He didn't intent to offend her, he just wanted to be left alone, stifling a yawn as to pretend to be tired.

"No," she shook her head, "I was coming to take you along to Quark's."

Sighing, Julian rubbed his tired eyes. "I'm sorry but I don't think I'm in the right mood for it."

Leaning closer, Jadzia gently took his hand, making the young man cock up his head in surprise. His expression remained blank, though.

"Only for an hour. Please Julian, we're just worried about you. It would be a good start."

She gave him a genuine, reassuring smile, softly squeezing his hand. She knew how much he hated to be in company, how much he wished to be left alone. But she couldn't leave him the way he was. He needed company, no matter how much he opposed to every effort to get him out of his quarters. Julian was still so secretive, so absolutely keyed up. Sisko had convinced him that death was not the right decision – but Julian seemingly hadn't thought life the right decision either.

"I told Quark to reserve a table and it's nearly time for dinner," she offered blandly, "What do you say?"

He cast his look toward the ground, not able to endure her friendly smile any longer. "I'm not hungry," he said absently and half-heartedly, though he knew he had already lost the argument – as always.

"But I am, and I'd be glad if you'd keep me company." She stood up, not letting go of his hand, waiting for Julian to take the cue.

And finally he did, dragging himself up and stepping next to her. "If you say so."

* * *

Quark's was not overly crowded that evening. Only a few customers sat at the bar, many of them engineers waiting for the current shift to end and having a nice time before reporting to duty. Nonetheless, the bar was filled with laugher, chatter and the sudden and sporadic jubilation of dabo players. Quark was nowhere to be seen, though _Broik_ was flitting about the place with some sort of tray, delivering drinks and food before returning to the bar for a new run.

For Julian, though, the place was noisily and fussy.

He didn't pay attention to any detail, just followed Jadzia, his eyes steadily fixed on her back as she mounted the stairs to the second level. He just tried to shut everything else out, concentrated on the young Trill as she pointed to one of the tables next to the railing. They had a pretty good view over the level below, its customers and the dabo wheel. Julian didn't even take a look but simply sat down on the opposite side of the table, leaning back and folding his hands in his lap as if not sure what he actually was supposed to do.

He silently watched Dax grab the menu, saw her flicking through the large amount of dishes and drinks as she pointed to something interesting every now and then. And finally she set the menu aside, sighing deeply.

"You're sure you're not hungry? You should try some _Kehal_," she tried once again," it's Vulcan. A little bit spicy but very delicate."

"Sorry, I just don't feel like eating…" was everything Julian answered.

Shrugging in slight resignation, she waited for the Ferengi waiter and ordered a small portion of _Kehal_ together with some Hiberian salad. When she directed her attention back to Julian, she tried once more to involve the silent young man into conversation.

"So, how's your meeting with Telnorri going?"

Julian didn't even lift his gaze, his voice bored, barely enthusiastic. "You already know that, don't you? Telnorri files a report as soon as our little meetings are finished, so there's no point in telling you, because you've already read."

"But that's only a report, Julian. I want to know how _you_'re feeling. Of course I read the reports but that's only one side of the story, isn't it?" Dax bargained, trying to cheer him up.

Julian just shrugged, then threw a short look over the crowd on the first level.

Again she sighed inwardly. Making Julian talk to her was harder than she had thought. He was so reserved, never let his true feelings show. It was startling her to see him like that. He was so utterly calm and quiet, and he obviously hadn't slept much in the last two weeks. She didn't need to read the reports from Counselor Telnorri to see the tiredness and exhaustion he tried to hide from everyone. But Telnorri had said it was just normal a reaction after all he had gone through. He needed time to heal, time to cope with what he had suffered in Telac's captivity. And they had granted it to him. They had left Julian nearly as much time as he needed – but still, she doubted that they would get anywhere if they went on like this which was also the reason why she had decided to take things into her own hands…

"Lieutenant Dax, Julian!"

Bashir spun around at the familiar voice. His eyes involuntarily widened when he saw O'Brien coming over from the catwalk leading to the upper entrance of the second level. The chief almost instantaneously offered a broad smile when he saw Julian, dragging a chair from another table.

"Do you mind if I have a seat?"

"No, Chief, not in the least," Jadzia smiled back, deliberately ignoring Julian's visibly growing unease.

"I'm quite surprised to see you here, Julian. You're having dinner?" O'Brien's question somehow took Julian by surprise. However, he only shook his head, not meeting O'Brien's eye. "No, actually I don't."

"He's not hungry," Jadzia interjected with a thoughtful look.

O'Brien's frown deepened. "I see…"

"So you're still on duty?" The young Trill tried to change topics, making O'Brien snort humorlessly.

"Some replicators are malfunctioning. Again. I've spent the better part of the day strolling from quarter to quarter and repair the replicators of half the upper level. There's still quite a backlog of work waiting for me, but for now, I just want to have a break."

"Sounds terrible," Dax laughed.

"Well, not as terrible as crawling through small ducts. The upgrade on the Defiant is not yet completed, though I'll try and finish it as soon as the replicator issue is settled."

The young Trill smiled again, then took the food plate from the waiter, placing it in front of her and grabbing for the fork.

"Racktajino, please," O'Brien hurriedly ordered, before Broik was out of earshot, then leaned forward, bracing himself on his folded elbows – and his expression became serious. "What about you, Julian? How are you?"

Again, the young man didn't look up, stalling as he let his gaze glide over the lower level. "Fine."

"Come on, Julian," the chief teased mildly, "you don't expect me to believe that. You're quite a sight. You look as if you haven't slept in days."

Turning to face the chief for the first time, Julian seemed impatient. "I'm fine."

"What about some racktajino? I can order you some if you like?" O'Brien offered in concern.

"I know how to order, Miles, I'm not stupid," Bashir harshly said – maybe too harsh.

Dax could see his effort to keep his temper low, wondering what his sudden anger really meant. Still it wasn't like Julian to lose his temper – not mentioning the Julian who had remained almost deadly calm during the past two weeks. Perhaps he was just stressed by the unfamiliar activity that was filling Quark's…

O'Brien obviously had decided not to take Julian's last comment as an offense, for he was already smiling again.

"What about playing some darts? To distract yourself."

Julian stared again towards the table, his voice unnaturally strained as he spoke. "I don't need to get distracted. I just want to sit here, doing nothing. I don't want to drink anything nor do I want to eat anything. No, thank you."

Dax could see the confusion on O'Brien's face, though she couldn't explain Julian's sudden and repulsive behavior either. Realizing that bringing him to a crowded place like this was very likely overcharging his current abilities of reintegration, she thought it best to walk him back to his quarters as soon as she was finished. Something seemed to be wrong about him – though she couldn't tell what exactly it was. Perhaps it was also just her imagination.

"Chief, Dax!" another familiar voice called over, its owner mounting up the narrow stairs to the second level. Kira was smiling at them, her smile even broadening when she saw their companion. "Julian! Nice to see you."

"I just attended service and thought about stopping at Quark's and having dinner. Do you mind if I keep you company?"

It was obvious that most of the attention was directed at Julian, for none of them had seen him much in the past two weeks. Kira had only seen him twice after his rescue from Felan III but those encounters had been short and not very informing. Of course she had heard from Sisko, Dax and O'Brien but seeing Julian with her own eyes was something else. Kira just hoped the tired look on the young doctor's face was nothing to worry about too much.

"So how are you, Julian?" she mildly asked, very well aware that she had to handle him carefully. She knew that he hadn't made a full recovery yet, she could tell by his behavior, by the way he was carrying himself in their presence. She had seen much of the same attitude back in the camps during the occupation. Kira would never be able to forget those times…

"Fine," was everything the young man retorted. He apparently grew ever more uncomfortable with so many people gathered around.

"But you look tired. Perhaps it would be better to stop by the infirmary, just in case," Kira said, her voice still understanding and sympathetic.

Shaking his head ever so slightly, Julian said: "I'm fine, really."

"She's right, Julian, you really don't look very healthy," O'Brien added. "You need to sleep and recover. And you need to eat. It seems as if you haven't eaten anything in days."

He seemed to get stiff on that. Facing O'Brien once again, he tried again with strained voice. "It's just because I'm not hungry. I don't feel like eating, that's all."

"Have you talked with Counselor Telnorris about your eating disorder?" Frowning slightly, Dax examined him closely.

"It's not a _disorder_," Bashir held in pressed tones, "It's just that I don't _want_ to eat."

"You shouldn't underestimate the psychological aspect. You've been suffering unnatural much stress for a long period of time," Kira gently interjected, obviously not quite comfortable with having to turn the conversation to this very topic.

"I wouldn't actually call it stress," Julian snorted under his breath.

"You know what I mean," the major tried to calm him, raising both hands in a defensive gesture.

Spinning around, Julian glowered at her. "No, I don't know what you mean."

"Julian, please, we're just worried about you. You seem so distant and reclusive, never talk about what happened," O'Brien almost sadly said, drawing Julian's full attention.

"There's not that much to report anyway," the young man snapped harshly.

"What the chief wants to say is that you're not yourself, Julian," Dax helped, "You don't eat, you hardly sleep, you never leave your quarters. And you're avoiding meeting other people."

Grinding his teeth, Bashir was barely able to hold back his anger. "That's my business. I don't need other people telling me what to do."

"We're not telling you what to do, we're just worried, because you never talk about what happened during those last three months," O'Brien tried mildly, "It's good to have you back, Julian, but still you refuse to let anybody get any closer to you. We're your friends, Julian, we just want to help."

It obviously was the last straw that breaks the camel's back, for all of a sudden, Julian struck the table with both flat hands, glaring at each one of them, his irritation finally gaining the upper hand. "Stop treating me like a child!" he all of a sudden shouted, stunning every one of them with his unexpected and violent outburst. "You want to know what happened?" Standing, Bashir nearly tipped the chair, shaking with barely controllable rage. From one second to the other his face had gone pale, his shoulders now trembling with heated emotions.

"Julian? You're ok?" Dax cautiously tried.

"NO, I'm not ok!" Bashir yelled back, his composure slipping with every second. "I'm damn not ok. How should I? I've been shot upon, captured, tortured, broken, mentally abused, driven to the verge of deathwish! I've been made betray everything I believed in, I've been made kill innocent people, I've been made living though I wished to die! I'm damn _not_ ok!"

He didn't even care if anybody overheard, shouting at them with all his pent-up anger, with all his pent-up rage and hatred he hadn't even known it existed. But it was there, rushing irresistibly to the fore. He all at once shouted at people so blissfully unaware of what had happened, so unaware of what had happened to _him_. People who never knew what it meant to be lost; people still living in an illusionary, intact world of security, a world he once had been torn out so brutally. And he hated them for it. He hated all of them who had abandoned him to Telac's maniacal plans. It might have been Telac who tortured him, but it had been his _friends_ who had made him the miserable being he was now. He hated them, Dax, O'Brien, Kira, Sisko and everyone who had not come to rescue him. Who had abandoned him to a nightmare he couldn't wake up from.

And he hated himself. He hated himself for having killed an innocent man, for having cracked under Telac's torture. He didn't need anybody to indulge him, to tell him that everything would be alright, he didn't need their advices and he didn't need their worries – least of all their care. He needed someone to shout at him, to berate him for what horrible deeds he had done, to reproach him for having killed Sisko, to hurt him, to tell him that he had been wrong, that he had taken the wrong decision. He needed someone to take him for what he was – a monster, a cold-blooded monster.

And then Dax stood too, reaching out for him. "Julian –"

"NO!" Bashir yelled, too incensed with rage, backing away and hitting the railing with his back. "Don't you dare touch me! I don't want anybody to ever touch me again!"

"Doctor, you're overreacting. You have to calm down," Kira cautiously ordered, dragging herself up, too. She knew that the situation was nearly about to escalate.

"Don't tell me what to do, Major! I don't have to do anything! I don't want to calm down, I don't want you to indulge me!"

He apparently was beyond reason. Dax didn't know what had prompted the sudden outburst, but Julian shook with barely controllable emotions. The last time she had seen him this haggard had been when Telac had ordered him to kill Sisko, though he hadn't been as violent back then. Jadzia could tell from the glint in his eyes that Julian was more than serious.

"Please, please folks, this is no arguing matter!"

Quark hastily came hurrying over to them, holding both hands up, eager to end the quarrel before anybody – or anything – got hurt. Needless to say, his guest preferred an atmosphere of joy and happiness, not that of a battlefield. Gently gripping Bashir's arm from behind he opened his mouth to protest – and forcefully hit the bulkhead, cringing from the blow the doctor had given him.

"Quark!" O'Brien cried out – though it was not clear if in worry or in threat.

"Dax to security. Emergency on the second level of Quark's."

Julian's eyes suddenly widened at the realization of her words, panic suddenly smothering in them. "No..." he incredulously whispered under his breath, his voice almost pleading. "…you can't do that…"

"Julian, it's ok, everything is going to be alright," Kira tried with upraised hands, nearing him ever so slowly.

Julian stumbled backwards, his eyes darting from one to the other, his ashen face contorted into a painful grimace - and from one moment to the other, Bashir spun around and broke into a run, almost crashing against a waiter as he struggled for the exit.

"Wait! Julian!"

Dax immediately set off behind him, though she knew that he wouldn't make it far. He would probably run into security every moment now. She didn't even dare imagine what would happen if Bashir was hindered by anybody against his will. Slithering to a halt on the narrow catwalk of the promenade's second level, she felt her heart stop, when she saw the young man backing frantically away from the guards, throwing his hands up in front of his face as he tried to elude them.

Dax willed herself to move even before she could think, grabbing the emergency med kit from the brackets next to the door.

"Don't you touch me!"

She saw one of the guards seize Bashir's arm, turning it behind his back so quickly, the young man didn't even have time to react; making it thus almost impossible for him to get his arm free again.

"Don't touch me!" Julian yelled, the once hot anger now completely turned into despair and horror. His voice almost cracked. "Don't touch me!"

Wriggling and fighting against the firm grip of security, he didn't stop screaming, flailing out with his legs, convulsing and trying to free himself. It was a horrific sight. Many of the passers-by had stopped in confusion to look at the sudden furore, gathering in small groups, not sure if the spectacle meant any immediate threat.

Dax didn't bother them, just focused on Bashir as he nearly seemed about to lose his mind.

"Let him go! Let him go!" she shouted desperately as she ran towards the bunch of men. Julian would get into post-traumatic shock if they didn't let go of him.

With a concerned look towards the running Trill, one of the security guards hesitated, then saw Jadzias contorted face and subsequently let go of Bashir, who now stumbled to keep his balance.

"Let me.. let me go," Julian breathlessly gasped, his mind captured by indescribable horror.

She arrived next to him only seconds later, pulling him back on his shoulder and pressing something cool against his neck.

Bashir instinctively grabbed for her hand, his eyes wide with fear – and a second later, he sagged unconscious into her arms. Easing his slack body onto the ground, she didn't even realize O'Brien, Kira – and a profoundly confused Quark – running towards them, before she hastily tapped her combadge.

"Dax to Infirmary. We've got a medical emergency."


	10. Chapter 9

**Hidden Memories - Chapter 9**

"I don't think it's a good idea, Benjamin."

Pacing to and fro in front of the cell, she took one hand to her temple, gently rubbing her forehead as she let out a long sight. She still felt exhausted from the last hours, the mental stress and the shock about Julian's sudden and violent outburst that had lead to a considerably great furore on the promenade. If she just hadn't precipitated things. She just couldn't stop scolding herself…

"I don't like it either, Old Man, but at the moment it's the best for all of us," Sisko shook his head. "He shouldn't be alone when he wakes up, though."

Nodding, Jadzia straightened, casting a short glance at his sunken down figure, before she turned once more toward the captain. "I'll stay. Just tell Odo to turn off the force field when you leave…"

"And you're sure you don't want any security guards in there?" Sisko's frown deepened.

"It's Julian, Benjamin, he won't hurt me." Somehow she felt the urge to defend the young man. He hadn't done anything wrong. She still didn't know what it was that had made him act like he had, but there had to be a reason for it.

"I hope you're right, Dax. It's just… startling to see him in such an aggressive way. I thought he was on the mend. After all we talked about I thought that at least he were stable. Even Telnorri's reports read that he's very keyed up, perhaps also too calm, but nonetheless he's not described as aggressive. I just can't think of a reason that made him lose control like that."

Sisko was honest. When he received word from Constable Odo telling him Bashir was held in pendant custody, he had been shocked at first. He would have never expected the young man act in such a violent way, not after what he had seen when he had been able to convince Bashir not to commit suicide. Julian was held in custody now, not because anybody would even consider reproach him for what he had done, but to prevent him from doing further harm to himself. Dax had told him how much Bashir had come to dislike his former infirmary, so the Counselor had suggested that custody was the lesser evil in Julian's present condition. However, he wasn't glad about how things turned out. But there wasn't actually anything he could do about the situation either. No matter how much he wanted to help Bashir, the current events were evidently surpassing his capability of help…

"I'll have Counselor Telnorri talk to him, anyway. Just keep an eye on him until we know if he's calmed down. If there's any news, let me know immediately."

Dax smiled weakly. "I'll see to that."

With another worried glance towards the cell, Sisko finally nodded, leaving the holding area and heading for Odo's office.

It didn't take long until the force field was gone, allowing Dax to step over the threshold and making her involuntarily wince when she heard it reactivate behind her back. She didn't care too much though, moving over to the palletwhere Julian's still unconscious body lay.

He seemed so peaceful while asleep, so unlike what she had seen back in Quark's. His breath came even and deep, his chest rising and falling ever so slightly. Gently stroking his hair, she felt the tears sting in her eyes.

_"I'm damn not ok. How should I? I've been shot upon, captured, tortured, broken, mentally abused, driven to the verge of deathwish! I've been made betray everything I believed in, I've been made kill innocent people, I've been made living though I wished to die! I'm damn not ok!"_

It had been a desperate cry for help. Julian stood with his back to the wall, there wasn't much to go. She had heard the whole story from John; how Telac had tortured Julian to help his plans, how Julian had opposed almost to death, how he had been broken by Telac all the same… She could hardly believe that a single person could suffer so much woe without cracking. She didn't know how Julian had managed to survive though she knew one thing for sure.

She would lose him again.

Fate had granted them another chance, had given them back their CMO and this time they would do everything not to lose him again.

* * *

_Huddled up in one of the dark corners, he was waiting, his heartbeat so fast that he feared his chest would be torn apart. He felt short of breath, almost about to asphyxiate. The air was so sharp and stale, so crushing and toxic, he knew he was about to die. Knew it._

_And then there was a voice. Barely audible at first, though it grew louder with every second, making him shiver with cold and fear. Still huddled up, he crouched even farther into the corner, covering his ears with his trembling arms, desperately wishing him far away. But the voice was still there, poisonous words penetrating his mind as he desperately tried to shut it out._

_"You can't hide, Julian. I know you're there…"_

_He almost choked, trying frantically to scramble to his feet. He didn't know where the voice came from, didn't even care. He just wanted to be save. He didn't want to suffer any more. He didn't want more pain. Hitting something solid in the dark, he was tossed to the ground again, his eyes strained with the futile effort to see in the engulfing dimness._

_"There's no point in running away, Julian."_

_The voice seemed nearer now, somewhere to his right; he could even feel its breath brushing against his cheek. He involuntarily let out a cry._

_Again he hastily stumbled to his feet, fumbling with both hands in the dark._

_There had to be an exit. Some sort of door. There had to be! Had to be!_

_"You know you can't go back, don't you?"_

_Crying out again, Julian lashed out in the dark. "Leave me alone! Leave me alone!"_

_And all at once the lights went on – stabbing, blinding, merciless stinging lights, sending a sharp pain through his unadjusted eyes that had been in the dark too long, making him throw up both arms for cover._

_"Julian, my boy…"_

_He hated that voice. Hated it. Hated it!_

_Then his arms were gripped and painfully distorted behind his back. Letting out another cry of surprise, Julian opened his eyes – just to be violently slapped across the face. He didn't yell this time, though._

_"Let me go!"_

_Another slap._

_"This is not real! This is damn not real!" Julian shouted. "None of this!"_

_And then a familiar figure appeared in front of him._

_"Isn't it, Julian?" O'Brien said. "We were worried about you. You don't seem capable of discerning dream and reality."_

_"Julian, Julian, I though you were a bit tougher." Julian's heart skipped some beats when he finally saw the owner of the disembodied voice, dredging up every bit of fear he could put forth._

_"NO! This is not real!"_

_Darkness again. A cold and sweaty finger brushing over his cheek._

_Julian nearly heaved._

_"Let me go, let me go!" Almost crying he stumbled forward, flailing out wildly, barely able to keep his mind._

_And from one moment to the other darkness was gone and he was standing on ops, facing Sisko and the others as he_ desperately tried to bring something forth.

_"Nice to have you back, Julian," Dax said, clapping her hands, smirking as she watched him jeeringly._

_"You're assigned to warp core repairing," Sisko coldly said, thrusting a simple padd at him._

_Grabbing the Padd, Julian flinched. "What … but I …"_

_"Chief, make sure the warp core deflector functions faultlessly." And turning to Julian he flashed a conciliatory smile. "We don't want any unexpected accidents, do we?"_

_"You should have stayed behind, Doctor, you're bringing nothing but trouble," Quark snarled._

_"I…I'm not…" Julian started but was knocked off his feet as the station shook with a sudden impact._

_"Four Jem'Hadar vessels have just decloaked 600 meters out to the station," Dax shouted._

_He didn't even have the chance of taking a look at the viewscreen, when Sisko already flew at him. "It's your fault, Julian! You shouldn't have come back! We don't need any murderer on the station!"_

_The sudden jolt send him fly backwards, his back hitting the stairs that lead to the captain's office._

_"It's a pity, they didn't shoot your shuttle when they had the chance to," Quark snarled into his ears, making Julian's vision blur with desperate tears._

_"You see how much they want you back?"_

_Telac's voice again._

_"You've lost your place among them many months ago. You don't even deserve being in Starfleet."_

_Not caring about Sisko or the others, Julian rolled to one side, furling up as he buried his head under his trembling arms._

_"Stop it! Stop it!"_

_"You're mine, Julian. I broke you and now you're mine forever," the voice whispered relentlessly._

_Not holding back the burning tears, Julian shook with torment._

_"Make it stop! Make it…"_

_

* * *

_

"…stop!"

Julian woke with a start, panting heavily as he hastily sat up – and almost fell from the pallet. Entwining his abdomen with both arms he immediately doubled over, swaying gently until his chopped coughing lessened and the last clouds of the nightmare started to fade away. Eyes shut against the bright light of the holding cell, the young man burried his face involuntarily between his folded arms.

"Julian, you're alright?"

Jerking up, he saw Dax nearing him cautiously, taking seat at the far end of the pallet.

"A nightmare?" she softly asked.

He couldn't bring forth a single word, still too shocked with what had just happened. Eyes large with fear, he only nodded reluctantly, hoping for her to let the topic fall. Casting a frightened glance around, he flinched.

"Where… where am I?" His still unsteady voice sounded almost like a plea.

"We're … After what happened Captain Sisko and I thought it best to keep you from any other harm."

Julian didn't look too convinced. She couldn't tell if he was still in shock from what he had seen in the dream or if he was just beginning to cool once again down to the previous level of calmness. His wary gaze wandered toward the flickering force field, his arms still clutched around his abdomen. She could see his shoulders tremble as his face drew yet again into a faint grimace.

"Can… I mean," he stammered, "…may I get out?"

Shaking her head, she cautiously reached for his hand, though he pulled it abruptly back before she could touch him.

"I'm sorry, Julian, it's only to your best."

She almost expected another outburst like that in Quark's, though Bashir stayed surprisingly calm. "I see," he whispered, casting his gaze to the floor.

"We don't want to hold you in this cell forever, Julian. Just as long as to make sure you're on the mend."

His shoulders hunched, he didn't face her. "I'm fine. I've been in worse situations, after all."

It scared her to hear him talk like that. And the worst thing was, he really didn't seem to care. Julian was just sitting there, leaning against the cool metal wall, trying to get his heartbeat back under control. Eyes closed against the bright light of the holding cell, his breath gradually came in regular intervals.

"I'm sorry, for what happened in Quark's," Jadzia finally started. "I wanted to bring you back to your normal life, but I shouldn't have precipitated things."

"Doesn't matter," Julian sighed at length, opening his eyes and staring to the ceiling. The once so heated emotions had entirely vanished, leaving nothing behind but sad emptiness in his gaze. Jadzia couldn't recall a time when she had ever before seen Bashir that resigned and lost. He might not let it show in front of others – but she knew that he was badly shaken. After all he had gone trough, after all that had been done to him, perhaps they had ultimately reached the point when they had finally lost him for ever…

"Well, it does, Julian." She tried not to think about it any further. As long as he was sitting in front of her – alive – she wouldn't give up. She would never give up that easily again…

There was a long silence before the young man spoke up at length.

"It doesn't for I'll resign anyway."

Jadzia sat up a this, knitting the brows. "You can't be serious."

"I am. I'll file a formal request as soon as I'm on duty again." Bashir's voice remained calm and decided, making the young Trill realize that he really was serious. She knew this tone and she also knew that he had probably already made up his mind.

"Julian, with all due respect, but this in no decision you should make in your present condition."

He looked up, not sure how to take her last statement. It reminded her of his former self, of his professionalism as a doctor. He was so dead serious, so dediced that she couldn't help but wince at the smiliarity of the situation.

"I'm very well aware of the consequences, Jadzia. I've been thinking about it ever since I got back to the station." Hesitating a short moment, he rubbed his eyes. "The truth is, I don't want to be a doctor any longer."

"How can you say that?"

Startled, Julian looked her straight into the eye. "I don't want to be a doctor any longer, for I haven't proven to be a very good one in the past. I broke our job's main principle. I think that's reason enough."

"You know that's not true, Julian. You're distorting reality," the young Trill simply said, not severing eye contact.

"I'm not the one who's distorting reality. You are. All of you." He didn't say it offensively or aggressively, just in a neutral matter-of-fact tone – scaring Dax even more.

"Julian, listen to me, ever since we rescued you from Felan III you keep reproaching yourself, you reject our help, you draw back to yourself for no one to reach you. And now you're telling me you want to resign! What happened is not your fault, Julian! I know you. I know what a zealous, righteous, passionate and conscientious person you are. Being a doctor is everything you ever wanted – and you saved so many lives. You didn't betray your principles, Julian, you didn't have a choice. You chose the path that saved as many lives as possible, even if it meant to sacrifice the life of a single man."

His mouth twisted in agony. "But do I have the right to decide who's worthy to live and who not? I'm no god, Jadzia. I've sworn an oath to protect life and the truth is that I betrayed that oath. Even if you tell me I was right, that I didn't have another choice. It's I who can't forgive myself, don't you see? I would never be able to carry on as if nothing had ever happened."

She had forgotten how good he was at it. Hauling himself over the coals. He might be indulging and understanding with others, though he was totally lacking of the ability when it came to himself. At least now she was speaking to his old self, even if his view might still be too contorted by the trauma he had suffered.

"So you'll give up and Telac wins." Jadzia's voice was icy.

She could see him flinch at the mentioning of Telac's name, though he still kept his composure. He even seemed calmer than before.

"Telac doesn't win, Jadzia, he has already won." Bashir didn't even blink.

Staring numbly at the broken young man in front of her, Jadzia couldn't help but loathe the man who had hurt Julian so deeply. He didn't even seem to care much, the fire she had witnessed back in Quark's yesterday evening burned down, leaving behind only apathy and indifference. It was so very different from what he had been in Sisko's presence, from what he had been when he had shouted at them, when he had so suddenly acted in a totally different way than he had for the last days. It was as if she was speaking to a perfectly different person now…

And suddenly and without forewarn she started to realize what she had not been able to see ever since they had tried to get Julian back. None of them had. Neither Sisko, nor O'Brien, nor Kira, not even Counselor Telnorri.

It was so simple a thought that she couldn't grasp its full meaning at the first time. But it made sense. A stunning, scaring yet logical sense.

Julian had been reproaching himself for what he had done, he hated himself for having killed an innocent man. He was even so shaken to the ground as to give up the most important thing in his life: His profession as a doctor. Julian was destroying himself, hurting himself by clinging desperately to the formidable murder he had committed.

But the truth was that he couldn't cope with his own weakness. He couldn't cope with the fact that he had been broken, that he had been the victim, not Sisko, not O'Brien or anyone else. Julian had been broken by Telac, had been so profoundly hurt that he now frantically tried to twist the truth – switching the role of the victim to that of the committer. He didn't want to realize that it had been him who had been violated. He was so utterly ashamed of his own weakness that he would rather condemn himself than accept the truth…

Finding enough courage to speak up again, she resisted the urge to touch Julian. She had to try and help him. At least now she started to understand what was going on inside of him, why they hadn't been able to reach him before. Slowly grasping the real depth of the damage Telac had so sadistically inflicted on him, she felt a cold shiver run down her spine. Inhaling deeply, she tried to concentrate on what she had to do now.

"How can you say that? How can you say that Telac's already won?" she mildly tried, shaking her head.

"Because it's true?" Julian asked back impatiently.

"You're here, Julian. Telac hasn't won because you're still here. You prevented him from finishing his bomb, he didn't even succeed his plans. You're no longer a prisoner," the young Trill said sympathetically.

"I am!" Bashir slightly raised his voice, gesturing vaguely around and indicating the force field.

"That's not the same," Jadzia held.

"It damn is." She could see how hard Julian was struggling to keep his voice low. It was the second time, she realized, that his composure was slipping. So she was finally getting somewhere…

"You're not a prisoner, Julian. You're in pending custody until we know for sure that you've calmed down."

"I am very calm, Lieutenant!"

"You don't seem to understand, Julian. We're not trying to hurt you, we're trying to help you."

"I do understand, I'm no fool. And don't you call me Julian again. I don't need your help. I don't need anybody's help. Can't you see?"

With that he almost jumped up, walking over to the force field in a way that made Dax afraid he would actually hit the energy field and hurt himself. However, he just kept standing there, doubling up his fists – glaring furiously at her with an anger she didn't know where it so suddenly came from.

"I don't need anybody's help, so stop indulging me! I don't damn need you to treat me like a child!"

She was not sure if urging him to remember farther would be a good idea, but she also realized that their conversation was taking the right direction. There wasn't much to lose, was there? They couldn't go on like they had during the last two weeks and now she had the chance to change things. She needed to reach him, to get through the barrier he had ever since been hiding behind.

"Nobody's treating you like a child," she retorted calmly, careful not to upset him by using his given name. "It's just because everyone is worried about you. We don't want to lose you again for we are glad to have you back."

He grimaced. "Stop telling me lies, Lieutenant. I've got eyes of my own. You can hardly call your behavior glad. The truth is you're afraid of me, why else putting me into a cell?"

Sadly shaking her head, she stood up, too. "You're so good at twisting the truth."

"I'm not twisting truth! It's you who can't see it!" Julian finally shouted, unable to uphold his composure any second longer.

"What is it I can't see?" Dax, too, was raising her voice, matching his aggressive tone.

"I murdered an innocent man, Lieutenant!" he shouted, too incensed with rage to care much about security or anybody eavesdropping.

"You know that's not true!" she spoke up. "But you keep insisting on it to chastise yourself!"

"Chastise myself! I've been tortured more than you can even imagine. I don't need to chastise myself!" He forcefully hit the bulkhead, ignoring the sudden pain flaring up his wrist. "I don't need your help! I don't need anybody's help!"

"You do!" she insisted.

"No! You don't understand! I just wish I had died in Telac's captivity!"

Decideldy stepping in front of him, Jadzia all of a sudden and without forewarn raised her hand, slapping him across the face as hard as she could, sending Julian's head flying to the left. "Don't you ever dare say that again!" she shouted in rage.

More perplexed than furious about the Trill's sudden action, the young man stumbled backwards. One hand on his throbbing cheek, he stared at her with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

"I never want to hear that again!" the young Trill shouted again, hoping she could find enough courage to do what she had to. She had to tell him – even if he didn't want to hear it. "I won't let you destroy yourself just because you can't cope with having been the victim."

Stunned by her unexpected words, Julian incredulously shook his head, his eyes slowly widening. "That's insane…"

Closing in on him until her eyes were level with his, she continued: "But that's the truth your trying to twist, Julian. You keep telling me what awful, dreadful deed you've done. You keep wanting me to hate you, to hate you for having killed an innocent man; for having helped Telac's plans and nearly killed a whole race – not to mention the chaos that would have been created if the wormhole had actually been destroyed. You want me to loathe you for what you've done. You even feel nauseated by your own actions. You don't want anybody's pity. You need someone to tell you how bad and wrong your decision was, what a coldblooded monster you are, a monster taking lives as it pleases."

She could see that she had hit the mark, for Julian was literally speechless. Staring incredulously back at her, he seemed as if Jadzia had just revealed his innermost feelings. He wasn't able to bring forth a single word.

"But the truth is, that you've been hurt, more profoundly and gravely than you can admit."

Her voice became soft again, almost sad. "You've been trying to hide it by pretending that it had been you who's the bad guy. But you know that it's not true. You're not the committer, Julian, you're the victim."

"No…" the young man stammered, shaking frantically his head, backing ever further away from her. "I murdered. I gave in to Telac's plans…" His voice grew ever so weak as her words cutted ever so deep. Still he was trying to uphold his truth.

"You didn't give in, Julian, you've been broken…" It hurt so much to tell him that she felt short of breath. Focusing her whole attention on the young doctor, she knew she had to push him further.

"No…" It sounded like a helpless plea. Bashir still didn't move, his eyes widening ever farther, as his mind was searching for a loophole. But there was none. Jadzia was right – and he knew it. "No… I…" Trying hard to fight back the desperate tears, Bashir's gaze dropped ashamedly to the ground. The young man still shook his head, refusing to listen to anything Jadzia threw at him; trying to uphold his defense, as the Trill's words started to coalesce with feelings he had ever since tried to suppress.

"He's used you to obey his maniacal plans. It was him who made you betray the most important thing in your life – and you could do absolutely nothing to stop him. You were completely at his mercy."

"He…he hasn't…" Julian stammered incoherently, though he didn't make it any further when Jadzias firm voice revertebrated yet again from the walls.

"He's abused you, Julian. He has deliberately, sadistically tortured you. He has destroyed your resistance and made you obey every wicked order he gave you."

"No!" Julian desperately cried out, his shoulders shaking violently. The pained plea in his cloudy eyes was stabbing hard through her very heart.

She knew that she had finally made it through to him, though she also knew that she had ultimately reached the limit of how far she would go. There they were. At the very fact Julian had ever since refused to see. She knew that her forcing him painfully realize the truth was almost pushing the young man to his limit. But the hurt and pain she felt at this very moment was of no less intensity.

There was following a long, engulfing silence, each second making her anxiety grow farther that Julian wouldn't respond, that everything she had hoped to accomplish was nothing more than wishful thinking.

But then he did.

His voice dead calm it was barely above a whisper, his gaze still cast downward, though she could tell – no, she knew – that he was there again, that he was reliving yet again the decisive moment of his ordeal...

"I didn't know where I was… He told me about his plans, but…. I knew I couldn't help him… He kept… torturing me… but still I wouldn't give up," he managed reluctantly, his breath growing more and more chopped. He just stood there, shoulders hunched with pain, eyes shut against the devastating truth of reality, the words rushing to the fore without Julian holding them back any longer.

"I knew that I could never get out alone… But I trusted in you… The only reason that held me in life… was that I knew you'd come for me… that Captain Sisko would come for me…"

He almost seemed about to collapse on the very spot he stood on, his face pale and twisted into a faint grimace of pain.

"I…tried to oppose…" he almost sobbed, his voice weak and broken. "I…tried to hold on…but…you never came. I knew someone would come for me… but you never came..." And with the last words he couldn't suppress his tears any longer, burrowing his face into his hands. "It was… a nightmare… I… couldn't wake up and… he didn't… leave me…. a choice…"

He didn't make it any farther. Weeping and sobbing he desperately tried to wipe off the tears, struggling futilely to keep his illusionary world of indifference. A world so detached from everything that had made it possible for him to stumble on through life, forgetting and suppressing the pain and horror he had went through. Forgetting about his friends, about who he really was. Forgetting about the destructive blow of hopelessness when he had been forced to learn what loneliness meant, how fragile a human life was.

Sagging towards the ground, Julian just couldn't stop crying – about his life that had once been robbed from him, about his friends who had never come for his rescue, about a cruelty in life he never had thought that it existed, about the loss of his naivete, about everything that he had so long tried to suppress and ignore. Broken and beaten he cowered on the floor, the stream of desperate tears rolling down his pallid cheeks which didn't even the heated feeling of shame managed to flush. Never before had he felt so lost in his life. Never before had he felt so hurt, ashamed and humiliated - so worthless.

Gasping irregularily for breath he immediately doubled over, coughing slightly under the rush of tears. He just wished to die at the very place he cowered at, breaking under the enormous pressure that had been lasting on him ever since they had brought him back. It was only a few seconds later that he felt her – felt her gentle embracement. And this time he didn't offer any resistance. Letting her gather him up in her arms and draw his head to her shoulder, he just couldn't stop crying, shaking with hurt as he desperately clutched to her.

"It's over, Julian," Jadzia gently whispered, cradling the sobbing young man and stroking his hair, trying to soothe him as best she could.

He didn't give any answer, just clung to her as if she were the last straw he could catch at before being dragged into the dark and drowning abyss beneath – and she didn't let him down. She was there for him, making him let out all the pent-up feelings he had too long tried to fight down.

She was right, he hadn't wanted to see it. His own weakness. His own vulnerableness. He had desperately tried to push it aside, to persuade himself that he had been wrong and that everything had been his fault.

But Jadzia was right. He was so utterly ashamed of having been a victim to Telac's torture, of having been made realize that his own life was worthless, that another man was so easily able to take it away from him that Julian hadn't wanted to face reality. He had run away from it, had hurt himself in order to not feel the hurt Telac's humiliation had done to him – that it was still doing to him. But truth had caught up and now it was crashing down upon him more merciless than he could have ever imagined.

Telac's cruelty, the deception of being left on his own, the fear he had ever since tried to ignore. His entire world had once been forcefully shattered into hundereds of thousands of pieces, each splinter inflicting painful wounds, cutting deeper and deeper.

"I'm sorry, Julian," the young Trill whispered gently. "I'm so sorry there was no one coming for you. I'm sorry that we weren't there for you when you needed us." She felt lost for words, silent tears filling her eyes, as she held the trembling young man. That was the reason why he had tried to avoid meeting people, his very friends. That's why he felt so betrayed, so trustless and lonely, why he had kept refusing their help. Why he had reacted so totally different in their presence, why he had shown that repulsive and angry behaviour as soon as he had to deal with one of them. Not only had his mind been broken – but also his ability to trust...

"I'm so sorry that we weren't there for you. I'm so sorry for everything you had to go through…"

Julian didn't answer. Too deep was the misery that came washing over him – too deep the longing for protection and safety.

He didn't know how long he was sobbing and weeping in her arms. It almost seemed like eternity – but all the time he could hear her soothing, gentle words, could feel the comforting warmth of her body, lulling him into a cocoon of safety and protection he never wanted to leave again. It was so comforting a feeling – the very kind of feeling he had always yearned for so wistfully. The feeling of home and security. The feeling of affection, telling him that he was more than Telac had made him believe to be. That he wasn't unworthy of life…

No matter how much he had forced the feeling down, how great the deception of having been abadonned by his very friends had been – he needed them. In this moment more than ever…

"I'm… sorry…" he finally managed in slurred voice, still more tears running down his wet and sticky cheeks.

"No, Julian, you shouldn't be," she started, but suddenly realized that he wasn't talking about Telac or Sisko. He was talking about letting himself go in front of her eyes…

Hugging him softly, she added in an afterthought: "It's not the first time a young man is lying in my arms and crying his heart out."

Julian faintly looked up at this, his bleary eyes red and swollen.

"I'm a Trill, you forgot? I'd been mother to a son, twice," she tried to offer him her most sympatric smile, hoping silently that it looked more confident than she actually felt. "But I promise, I won't tell anybody."

Julian weakly nodded, inhaling deeply. Slowly dragging himself up from her embrace he started wiping off the last tears with his sleeve. To his surprise, there didn't follow any new ones.

He looked terrible. Cowering on the floor with his face flushed and sticky with the remaining of the tears, he was a miserable sight – though he looked in some degree stable for the first time ever since they had brought him back from Felan III. She knew he hadn't recovered yet, that he still needed help to cope with what he had experienced in captivity. But she knew all the same that they'd made the first step.

Acceptance.

They would be able to build on it.

Sitting silently next to each other Julian drew close his knees, wrapping both arms around them. His cloudy stare was directed absently towards the floor. Some more minutes elapsed in silence until the young man finally spoke up again. When he did, his voice was still slightly unsteady.

"…do you know where he is…?"

She suppressed the urge to ask "who", for she already knew who he was speaking about. Not sure if telling him the truth was a good idea after all what had just happened, she reluctantly shook her head. "They're still investigating."

"I see…" His voice dropped yet again to barely above a whisper. "I… I just can't understand how I could have forgotten all of this. How … I could have forgotten something like this… In all the time I never…"

He didn't finish the sentence, lying his head tiredly on top of his knees. She almost expected him to retreat once again to a place far inside himself, when he suddenly looked up. He futilely tried bring a small smile on his lips.

"…thank you…", he shyly whispered.

Reaching for his hand, she softly squeezed it and offered a genuine smile of relief. "You're welcome, Julian."

And beckoning towards the force field, she added: "I think it's time to go home…"


	11. Epilogue

**Hidden Memories - Epilogue**

Leaning back, he folded both hands in his lap, drawing in a deep breath. It was still early in the morning. Their meeting was taking place at quite a different hour than usually though it had been himself who had suggested such an early time. He still felt groggy and tired, his head hurting with a slight headache, though Dr. Selaran had said that it was just normal a reaction. After all what had happened…

"And you told me that your sleep has become longer," the elder Bajoran asked in a friendly though concerned tone. He held the PADD casually on top of his knees, never taking his eyes off the young man who was sitting quietly in front of him.

Julian could sense the underlying worry and weariness in the counselors warm and solid voice. Slowly nodding, he threw a quick glance out of the observation window, watched the many small points streak by ever so slowly, his thoughts already about to wander off yet again to this place far far at the other end of the universe. Squinting slightly at the black vastness outside the viewport, he still felt his heart heavy in his chest. Finally tearing his gaze from the hypnotizing sight, he directed his attention back on the other man.

"Sleep isn't as long as it should be, the time which takes me to fall asleep still to long… but in general I'd say, yes, sleep has become better," he admitted gingerly.

"What about the eating disorder?" the Bajoran mildly asked, leaning closer to him as he lay the PADD aside, folding both hands as he propped himself onto his knees.

Julian involuntarily felt the urge to draw away – but overcame it. He knew that the older Bajoran just wanted to help – and that he needed him, no matter his personal feelings. And – talking wasn't actually as bad as he might have thought. At first it had been almost impossible for him, his true feelings keyed up behind the inner wall he had once so frantically tried to uphold. But talking had become easier now. Telling what he was feeling was actually a relief.

"At least I try to eat three times a day," Bashir tried to smile crookedly, nervously glancing at the chronometer next to the Counselor's working station.

The older Bajoran obviously noticed, for he decidedly tapped his PADD and nodded friendly. "She'll be here in a few minutes. I think we should stop here, what do you think?"

Cocking his head up in surprise, Julian agreed with another faint smile, drew himself up and made slowly for the door. Before he left, though, he once more turned. "So, tomorrow morning?"

"Tomorrow morning," the older Bajoran nodded.

Stepping out into the deserted corridor, Julian felt the heavy weigh drop from his chest. He still didn't like meeting Telnorri. Granted, the older Bajoran counselor was a very sympathetic, understanding and friendly person – but still he was a doctor and Julian never had made a good patient, had he?

"Julian!"

Startled by the sudden nearness of the femal voice, the young man whirled around.

"Jadzia..."

"You're already finished?" the young Trill asked casually, though he still got the underlying worry. Quickly shaking his head, Julian tried to offer his most reassuring smile.

"We made it quite far today…" he shrugged apologetically.

"I see," Dax nodded, as both of them started to walk next to each other along the corridor. Bashir still didn't seem as confident as he once had been, still hesitated whenever he rounded another corner as if he expected something unpleasant waiting for him in the dark…

"So how did it go?"

"Besides me not willing to give any answers to Telorri's questions?"

When the young woman suddenly stopped, watching him with a mixture of worry and alarm, he slightly chuckled. "Just a joke. Come on or we'll be late for lunch."

The time they had made it to the promenade, Julian had gained some more confidence. She could tell from the way he was walking next to her, how he was slowly regaining his sense of humour. If not entirely it was at least a beginning. She didn't doubt that he would make it, that he slowly regained what once had been lost inside of him – the progress he had already made during the last week was amazing, anyway. And she couldn't voice how glad she was. Julian now walking next to her was more than a miracle. Her breast heavy with silent tears, she finally stopped, turning to him with a sad but reassuring smile.

"It's good to have you back," she whispered softly as she gently reached for his hand, squeezing it affectionately.

"It's good to be back home," he whispered back – and for the first time it was there again. She couldn't tell how much she had missed that typical smile of his.

"I think there's someone you like to see," she arched a brow, gesturing towards Quark's.

As he took her cue and followed her into the surprisingly quiet Ferengi bar, he couldn't help stopping in astonishment on the threshold of the entrance.

"John…!"

The young engineer was sitting at one of the tables, absently swaying a half-filled cup with one hand, while he watched some of the dabo players who were already occupying the play board in groups of two or three. When he spotted Julian and Jadzia enter the bar, though, he almost immediately jumped up, coming hastily hurrying over to them.

"Julian!"

With only a few steps he had made it down to the entrance, giving the young doctor a brief but heart-felt hug, before he padded his shoulder. "You look good! You don't know how worried I was after the last time we met."

"I'm fine," Julian retorted at length, holding both hands up in defence as if he already suspected his friend not to believe him. "Really."

John seemed to relax at the young doctor's slight chuckle.

"But… why are you wearing that uniform?" Julian asked in astonishment, indicating the grey overalls the former engineer of Velurin wore.

John couldn't suppress a proud smile. "Newly assigned to the Ferregan. It's a Federation research and freighter vessel. I… well I guess, I owe Captain Sisko some favors now," he grinned.

"Wow, I… that's quite a surprise," Julian confessed slightly speechless. "When do you leave?"

Tilting his head to one side, the young engineer's face became serious. "In two days. But until then I've every time I need. I guess there's a lot I ought to prepare myself for. I've never been away from home and me now flying to all those unknown planets – that almost sounds like a dream."

"It surely will be," Dax smiled genuinely.

There was still so much Julian wanted to tell him, so much he needed to let him know. Thinking back of the last months – he could still feel his heart heavy in his chest. And for the first time he started to realize that things could have been even worse. No matter how much woe he had suffered, how painful and devastating Telac's captivity had been – there always had been someone with him, someone caring, someone sharing the cruel fate he had gone through… someone helping him persevere. He had always taken their friendship as granted, but now that he knew what really had happened, now that he knew the real circumstances of his time in Velurin, he didn't know how things would have turned out without John's help and protection.

Standing a short moment silent in front of both of his friends, Julian wondered if it could ever become like before. Looking into Jadzia's friendly, caring face, he knew that perhaps it was possible. It would be a long way – but nevertheless there was the tiny chance that it was actually possible…

"So if you feel hungry, we could as well order something," John suggested enthusiastically, and Jadzia nodded in agreement.

"We planned on eating anyway," she shrugged.

Just before both of them could make their way back to John's table, Julian suddenly hesitated, staying back some steps.

"Jadzia…"

The young Trill stopped at Julian's call, turning. When her quizzical look met the young doctor's he seemed slightly embarrassed.

"What is it, Julian?"

"Do you mind if I won't have lunch with you?"

Casting a confused look at John, the young Trill cautiously shook her head. "Why?"

Julian was obviously searching for words, but then just said: "I just… Well, there's something I want to do…"

* * *

"Captain?"

Slightly startled, Benjamin Sisko looked up into his first officer's quizzical face, still rolling his baseball absent-mindedly in his hand. The PADDs still lay scattered across the table's dark surface, most of the displays blank and lifeless.

"Sorry, Major, you were saying?"

The young Bajoran woman shook her head, not trying to hide her slight astonishment. "Nothing too important." They had been talking about security reinforcements… thought the captain seemed most of the time more absent than attentive, never ceasing to keep rolling his baseball in one hand; stroking absently over the balls bulging seam, his mind seemed already far adrift.

"I'm sorry, I was just… distracted."

When Kira was obviously waiting for some kind of statement, he reluctantly continued: "Have you ever been in that kind of situation when you knew that whatever you did, you'd choose the wrong decision?" He didn't look up, just kept staring ahead in front of himself. She couldn't help wondering about the resoluteness she saw in those dark eyes of his.

Keeping silent for a short moment, Kira shook her head at length.

"I guess most of us have been. During the Occupation anyway. There's just not always the difference between good and bad you once were brought up to believe in… and by realizing this – I guess that's one meaning of growing up…"

Sisko nodded, placing his baseball cautiously back onto the holder on top of his desk, then sat up, trying to shake off the absent-minded feeling.

"Somehow we all ought to be glad that those times are seldom – and far in between. You can just pray that you'll never get into one of those situation. And I … just keep wondering if justice really exists, if it's really more than just a human construct," he added in an afterthought.

"I see."

The captain once more squared his shoulders. "Any trace of Telac?"

"No sign of him so far." The major sighed, "though I don't think he'll make it very far. Sooner or later he's bound to be detected by someone… Considering the Federation's interest in Felan III at the moment anyway."

Without any other word, Sisko grabbed one of the PADDs, handing it to her as he drew himself up. "You'll find all the information you need concerning the security matter on the PADD."

Kira took the small device that was offered to her and flicked it over. "I'll discuss it with Odo. Let's see what he has to say." With a short nod she turned and left the office.

No sooner had the door slit shut behind her back that Sisko let out a heavy sigh, straightening absently his uniform. Wordlessly he turned once more toward the large viewport in his back. Stroking with one hand over his beard, he retrieved the small PADD lying on one edge of the captain's table. Flicking it on with one thumb, he stared numbly at the bright green letters in front of him.

Sighing once more inwardly he had to admit that those reports could be far worse. And almost they would have been. Almost…

Reading Telnorri's reports, the older Bajoran counselor seemed pleased and confident with how things were turning out, with how much progress Julian made with every session. He had already recommended that after some weeks, light duty would be a good start; that gradually the young doctor's wounds were beginning to heal; that gradually Julian was coming back to his old self…

Supressing the urge to slamm one fist down onto the table's surface, Sisko inhaled deeply.

_"Sometimes we have to make decisions where every path we take means to lose – but still we have to make our choice – and live with that decision."_

He had meant those words as he had said them. Even if Julian hadn't known, Sisko had been serious back then.

He had been responsible for everything that had happened. For not having found the young man earlier, for not having been able to prevent his crewmen from being hurt, for not having stopped the madness when he'd once had the chance to…. For having almost destroyed his officer's life in the course of events.

He knew how much Julian had once looked up to him, how great his trust had been.

And Sisko had betrayed that trust. He could only imagine how Julian must have felt… How he must still feel…

It was one of the rare occasions that he hated his post. That he hated the responsibility which was accompanying his very assignment. That he hated being made judge over life and death. That he hated being the Emissary…

But as he once had said, life wasn't the easy game between good and bad one often oversimplified. Sometimes one had to take decisions where every path meant to lose…

He could only hope that Julian would make it. He couldn't imagine another person who could do it if not Bashir. So he kept hoping…

Some time he would regain his trust. Some time he would.

* * *

Stepping in front of the door he suddenly hesitated, his hand coming to a halt only inches above the sidepanel's chime. He wasn't at all sure if he should be here, if coming to this place was the right decision after all. Almost automatically straightening his blue shirt, he took in a deep, deliberate breath and tried to calm and tell himself that he had to do it.

He could hear voices behind the door. Clatter and voices, making his uneasiness grow farther, urging him to turn his back on the situation and leave as he had done so often before.

Inhaling once again, he slightly shook his head. He wouldn't run away. Not any more.

Still indecidedly standing in front of the closed metal door, his heartbeat quickened with every minute he kept standing in the deserted corridor. He wanted to, but still – he couldn't. He hadn't figured that it would actually be that difficult. Already about to draw his hand back from the chaim, he took a step backwards.

"Go in."

Startled by the sudden voice behind him, he slowly turned, already expecting Jadzia to stand next to him, who had most likely figured what he intended to do. But as he spotted the actual person now standing a few meters away, he involuntarily furrowed the brow and turned his attention fully on the newcomer in the otherwise deserted corridor.

"Go in," the young girl repeated once again impatently, curling her lower lip. Her intense blue eyes were clear and watchful as ever, her long blonde hair welling in long cascades over her tiny shoulders. She didn't seem hurt, nor was her dress as torn and dirty as he remembered it. Both hands hanging along her sides, she kept watching him.

Reluctantly stepping closer until he was directly in front of her, Julian let himself drop onto his knees, gently reaching for her little hand to take it in his own. Her sight was the sadest and most beautiful at a time.

It took him several seconds before he finally found enough courage to voice his thoughts aloud. To voice what he had carried inside of him ever since their first encounter, ever since they had met months ago in the damp cellar far below the surface in Telac's captivity. Looking back on what happened since then – well, it almost seemed as another life to him.

"Who… are you?" Julian managed in an awkward whisper, stroking her hand affectionately. He felt so bound to the young little girl as if his very heart had been attached to the child's life. It felt as if something deep within was reacting to her sight, making him feel relaxed and – sadly safe.

She seemed yet again impatient, leaning from one foot to the other, tilting her head with a slight smile. "You still don't know?" Her childish manner was so heart warming. He had forgotten how gentle a human soul could be…

Shaking his head, he couldn't take his eyes off the girl's beautiful face. She seemed so fragile, so very like the first time he had met her.

Then – suddenly and without forewarn – she leaned closer, hesitantly putting both arms around his neck. Her hug was so soft and affectionate that he couldn't help embrace her as well. Her head leaning on his shoulder, her voice was loving and warm when she finally spoke.

"I'm your sanity, Julian."

And with another breath she was gone. Julian still knelt halfway on the floor, one arm clung around his own body as the warm and tickling sensation gradually started to fade. Reluctantly he opened his eyes, not sure if he hadn't acutally hallucinated. He knew that he once had. He couldn't even know for sure that the girl had ever been real at all. He had been under extreme mental pressure for such a long time, so perhaps after all what had happened in the last days and weeks…

But being true to himself it didn't even matter.

Scrambling to his feet, he took a last, deep breath before he turned, decidedly stepping again in front of the grey metal door. He still felt anxious and nervous, his heart throbbing palpalbly in his chest. Without another thought he decidedly hit the chaim.

"It's open. Come in," the response almost immediately came.

When the door whoosed open, Julian waited another second – then warily crossed the threshold, poking his head into the room as if not sure if he was welcome anyway.

"Julian…!" the low irish voice made it through the room.

They were having lunch.

Miles O'Brien was sitting with his wife and daughter, eating whatever delicious thing it was that Keiko had conjured up instead of the always monotone artificial replicator dishes. The chief almost immediately jumped to his feet, hurrying over to greet the new and most unexpected guest.

"I'm… sorry to disturb you," Julian quickly apologized as he kept unsure standing in the doorway.

"What… Why, no! Come in!" The chief hurriedly said, his face drawn into a faint grimace of pleasant disbelief.

"I'll fetch another dish," Keiko offered with a genuine smile.

"How… How are you, Julian?" O'Brien asked slightly unsure when he arrived in front of the young man. He wasn't sure what to expect, though Julian seemed a lot better than when he had seen him the last time.

"Fine," Julian managed and spotting the worried look on O'Brien's face, he quickly added frankly: "Well, at least most of the time."

Before the chief was able to say anything in response, Julian spoke already up again.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

Bashir's voice grew serious. "For everything you've done for me."

Even before the young man could say anything further, the chief had already padded him on the shoulder. "You're welcome, Julian."

"Mummy, is Julian having lunch with us?" Molly asked in an excited voice.

"Well… I…" Julian was already answering awkwardly, when the chiefs friendly voice cut in. "Sure he is."

Slightly embarrassed, the young doctor's face drew into a faint grimace, though O'Brien had already caught hold on his arm, dragging him with him.

"You better hurry or your lunch gets cold!"

* * *

_Space._

_The vast darkness was endless. No stars. No light. But still there was a faint glow, emenating from nothing and everything at once. He could feel his own breath losing itself in the vastness ahead, the feeling slowly evoking a creepy sensation deep within his chest. Nevertheless he knew. About everything._

"_You're back?" _

_The disembodied voice seemed to revertebrate from the very inside of his mind. Inhaling deeply, he frowned._

"_Where are you?"_

_Jennifer's face in front of his own, her eyes dark and unfathomable._

"The Sisko is back."

"_You knew it, didn't you?" he suddenly frowned, not willing to let himself be tricked into yet another hiding play. "You knew what was to come!"_

_Another figure appeared out of nothing. Kira._

"_What will it change if we did?" Her tone was emotionless and cold._

"_It changes everything! You knew what happened and you did nothing to stop it!"_

"_The Sisko doesn't understand. We did stop it."_

"_You knew that Dr. Bashir had been there – and what Telac was planning to do! You should have contacted me earlier. Why did you wait until it was almost too late? You used me as your instrument, you sent me to stop Telac from finishing his bomb so that your celestial temple was not distroyed. First you gave me that absolutely undestandable hint of yours and then you forsake me. You forsake my crew! Just to save your own existence. I thought that you were called prophets. Is there anything prophetic about you at all?"_

"_The Sisko is hurt," Kira stated – it almost seemed as if in astonishment._

"_I surely am! I almost _lost_ one of my officers!"_

_Quark's swollen face. _

"_Still you don't understand. But one time you will…"_

"_What is it that I will understand?" Whirling around there was yet again only the vast white that lay ahead, enshrouding him._

"_The Sisko more than anyone else knows what pain means. He will understand. Not this time. Not the next time. But in the end he will."_

_Glaring at them – at the enteties that were so very much determining his own life – he was lost for words._

_Jennifer once more stepped in front of him, her beautiful lips forming a faint smile before her figure slowly started to fade._

"_For we do not act for purpose. We are the purpose…"_

**- /- The End - /-**

**copyright 2005 Mijra**


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